I'm Not Perfect
by Lilchamor
Summary: A violent crime disrupts the status quo at Hillwood High School. Comfort and solace can only be found in each other. Friendship and love will redeem them. Five years post FTI and assuming TJM did not happen. Finally complete!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Hey Arnold! belongs to Nickelodeon and Craig Bartlett. I own none of it. So stop trying to sue me for money and go walk dogs or something.

Author's note: This is my first HA! fanfic, but it's certainly not my first time writing or my first experience with HA! Please R & R, tell me what you think, what you'd like to see, what could be improved on. Enjoy!

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter One

She took a deep breath. Now, in this brief, indissoluble, perfect moment, it was time. "Arnold." The name of her beloved drifted easily through her lips-cool, soothing, right.

He stared back at her expectantly, with those deep green eyes that had both tormented and brought joy to her bruised heart for the past eleven years. Several times, she seemed to have gotten lost in those eyes, a few precious seconds before she broke the gaze and fired some insult at him. But this time, it was different. This time, she held the gaze, connecting them in a way deeper than at any time before. "I wanted to tell you…" she began. "That…that...I..." Her throat caught.

He did not speak, simply waited. Anticipating. So patient. So loving and kind, even to her, the one who had tormented him nearly every day for years. How she pined for him. How deeply her heart longed for him. How her lips longed to say the words which now escaped her. Determination filled her soul. She reached up, boldly took his hand in hers, and said, "I love you."

He smiled, opened his mouth, and said the words she so longed to hear..."Pthssssssss….."

Helga opened her eyes. A fifty pound lizard was sitting on top of her stomach, flicking his tongue to her cheek in a good morning kiss….monitor lizard style.

"Yuck! Monster, get off me!" she exclaimed, pushing her scaly brown pet onto the floor. The creature hit the floor with a thud and quickly scampered under her bed.

"Criminy…" she sighed, flopping back onto her pillow. Helga looked at her alarm clock. The stupid animal had woken her up ten minutes before her alarm was set to go off. Ten minutes wasn't much, but it might've been enough time to finish her precious dream…

She loved dreaming. It was the only time where she could truly be the person she hid from the world. The shy, hopeless romantic. The girl with an aching heart longing for attention. The one who hid her insecurities and fears behind the tough mask of a bold, spiteful, angry teenager. She put on the mask each day because it was the only way she knew how to survive; to bear her daily problems which she pretended didn't faze her.

She reached over to her nightstand and picked up her locket. The lazy, dream-filled smile from the teenage boy with unruly tufts of golden hair over a football shaped head made her sigh. Sometimes, she hoped, she dared to think, that maybe he really did know the girl she never let show. Maybe he knew what she was really like. And maybe, just maybe, he knew of her love for him.

Her mind drifted to an incident five years ago, a moment she constantly replayed in her head. It was the summer after fourth grade, the summer when her beloved football head had risked everything to save his neighborhood that some big shot business man wanted to demolish. Her own father had been involved in the demolition plan, and she knew enough information to help Arnold find the document that would prevent his neighborhood from being torn down. She was, as she had always been, too afraid, too petty to let him think that she cared about him enough to help him. She came up with a plan of disguise to conceal her identity, but alas, her plan had failed.

Did he remember that moment of truth, on the rooftop of the Future Tech Industries Building, twenty four minutes before his sacred neighborhood was about to be bulldozed to the ground? Did he remember the moment when he discovered that she had risked everything to help him save the neighborhood?

"Helga, why'd you do it?" he had asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

She rattled off a number of impromptu excuses, but she already knew he wasn't buying any of it. Finally, she was forced to tell him the truth she'd been hiding for most of her life. It was a sweet, dizzying, fast moment as she had poured out words that had been building up for years. Then, her feelings had escalated into one precious kiss. It wasn't the first time she had kissed him. They had locked lips for the fourth grade Romeo and Juliet production, and the Babewatch episode they had both acted in. But this was different, because this time it wasn't her kissing him under a role. This time it was her, Helga G. Pataki, vulnerable and exposed.

Of course, the moment was over too soon. They had the soon-to-be-demolished neighborhood to attend to. Since that time, however, there had been an unspoken understanding between them. Or was that what she wanted to believe?

Did Arnold even remember her confession? She had told herself again and again that it was entirely possible, and probably likely, that he had forgotten all about what she had told him. It was five years ago, after all. And she barely treated him any better now than she did then. True, she no longer assaulted him with spitballs during History class, but she still took any opportunity to tease, taunt, and assault him.

"Oh, my angel," she sighed as she fastened the locket around her neck and stepped out of bed. "Why must I constantly torment you, the very one I long for to be mine? Daily I put on the façade of a girl who hates you. But you, my darling, you know better, don't you?"

Helga pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a pink vest. After taking care to tuck her locket under her shirt where it would be imperceptible, she walked over to her mirror. Her body was average: straight and long, thin except for a few extra pounds around her middle (probably acquired from her not-so-nutritional diet). At fourteen, she was starting to attain the body of a woman: her hips were evident when she wore jeans, and her B-cup breasts created two curves underneath her shirt. Helga picked up a brush and ran it through her thick blonde hair. Today was going to be another ordinary day at Hillwood High School. Kids in their stupid cliques, flitting around talking about what was on CBS last night or who had gotten smashed last weekend. Teachers pattering on and on, cramming useless material into kids' heads that they were going to forget two minutes after the test. However, there was always one thing to look forward to. Helga carefully plucked her pink ribbon from its usual spot next to her mirror. She always took care to keep it in perfect condition. It had gotten a little frayed over the years, but other than that, it was in pretty good shape. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and tied it with the ribbon.

She stared at her reflection. "Oh, Arnold," she said aloud. "Is it ever possible that one day you might love me the way I love you? I know I'm not the prettiest girl, or the smartest, and certainly not the kindest, but I still pray that one day you will see past all my faults. One day, my love, I will get the courage to reveal my true self to you. One day, maybe soon, you will come to terms with how you really feel about me. I can only hope…." She paused. Did she dare to hope? Since that day on the rooftop, it was possible that Arnold thought of her…

Across the room, Monster poked his head out from under the bed. He flicked his tongue, asking if she had forgiven him for waking her up early. Helga walked over and scratched her pet under his chin, something she knew he loved. Yeah, he was a pest sometimes, but he was a great listener. He was the only one, besides her psychologist and her best friend, that knew of her ultimate affection….

She hoisted up the lizard and took him downstairs to see if Miriam had remembered to buy cereal. Or bread for lunch. Or food, period.

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"Hey, Gerald," Arnold greeted his best friend as he paused by Gerald's locker. As usual, Gerald was engrossed in his hair. He kept a variety of combs and hair products in his locker, and right now he was working a generous amount of mousse through his curly stack of hair.

"Hey, man," Gerald said. "Excited about your birthday party tonight?"

"Yeah, I can't wait. I just hope it won't be too crowded. You know, having all my friends over at the boarding house."

"Hiiiii, Gerald," two nearly identical voices greeted, as two girls breezed past Gerald's locker. Mandy and Christina weren't twins, or even related, but they might as well have been. They both had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore identical or near identical outfits every day. And they never left each other's side.

"Hey, ladies," Gerald winked at them. Arnold rolled his eyes. Gerald flirted with any girl, regardless of whether he actually liked them or not, if she was popular. Popularity had been important to Gerald since junior high, and with his smooth personality he had no problem getting into the "cool" crowd. The problem was, he dragged Arnold in with him. Arnold had been dubbed "popular" by the other kids for years, but it wasn't a title he particularly wanted or cared about. The kids he mostly hung out with, the people who called him, the girls who flirted with him, were mostly Gerald's friends, not his. He only went along with it to make his best friend happy. The "in" crowd had no depth to it. These kids didn't care about things like world peace, science, or even their own futures. They cared about who wore designer clothes, who liked who and what was playing at the theatre. Arnold just didn't get it. Gerald was smarter than this and certainly not that shallow. Several times he had asked Gerald why he wanted to be part of this.

'It's the high life,' Gerald always said. 'We're in the spot where everyone wants to be. We get invited to all the parties and get any girl we want. You're only in high school once, man. Enjoy it!'

Giving his hair a final pat, Gerald turned to Arnold. "You invited Mandy and Christina to your party, right?"

"Yeah, all the cool kids are invited," Arnold gave a sigh to let Gerald know that he wasn't necessarily happy with this.

"Cool." Gerald closed his locker. "And by the way, uh, you might have a few extra kids at your party."

Arnold raised one eyebrow. "And that would be because…."

Gerald cleared his throat and started to walk down the hall. "I, uh, sort of told Mandy and Christina they could bring some friends."

"What?!" Arnold stopped so suddenly that Eugene, who had been walking behind them, bumped hard into Arnold and fell on his back.

"Ow….I'm okay." His squeaky, prepubescent voice echoed throughout the halls.

"Are you crazy?" Arnold exclaimed. "Do you realize how many friends Mandy and Christina have? I'm going to have dozens of people there that I probably don't even know!'

"Calm down, man." Gerald looked nervously around the hallway. Several people were staring at them. "The more people, the better! Besides, your boarding house is huge. What could happen?"

Arnold sighed as he approached his first period classroom. "Geeerrrald…."

"Look, your Grandma and Grandpa will be there, right? The party can't get too out of hand."

Arnold shook his head. It was true that his boarding house probably couldn't get any crazier than it already was. "Look, I have to go to class. I'll see you later."

"Okay, man, later," Gerald replied as they held out their thumbs and wiggled them, an eleven year old friendship ritual.

Arnold walked into the room, dodging the paper airplanes that were being thrown around. Why did Gerald try so hard to impress girls like Mandy and Christina? He didn't really like them, and he knew it. Gerald had had lots of girlfriends over the past few years, but they all had been about as deep as a kiddy pool. Why did his best friend torture himself like this? Both Arnold and Gerald knew that there was only one girl Gerald wanted….

"Good morning, Arnold," Phoebe's cheerful voice chirped from the seat next to him.

He tried to force a weak smile. "Hi, Phoebe."

"What's wrong, Arnold? You looked distressed." Phoebe opened her binder. "Is the homework getting you down? I know fifty problems was a lot to do last night…"

Arnold pulled his own homework out of his folder. "No, it's not the homework. It was hard, though. I hope I didn't make a mistake by signing up for Honors Geometry."

Phoebe smiled. "I'm quite certain you made the right choice, Arnold. Next to me, you have the highest grade in the class. Besides, last night's homework was meant to be a challenge."

"Clahs, seddle dahwn. Cllllaahhss..." the teacher clapped her hands. As she began to write the day's lesson on the board, Phoebe leaned over and whispered, "By the way, my schedule says I should be able to attend your party tonight. Helga and I will be arriving around seven."

Arnold started. "Helga! Oh man, I forgot to invite her. I hope she doesn't think she's not invited. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings by her thinking I invited everyone else and not her."

"I didn't talk to her about it, but I assumed she'd come with me." Phoebe shrugged. "Well, you still have the rest of the day to invite her. Or I'll just tell her about it later."

The crackling of the loudspeaker averted their attention. "Teachers," boomed the deep voice of Hillwood High School's principal, "if you could at this time pass around the ballots for Homecoming King and Queen, and then send one student to take the ballots down to the office, that would be appreciated. Thank you."

Arnold had been thinking so much about his party, he had forgotten that the Homecoming Dance was less than a month away. Of course, he should've remembered, since that was all the popular kids had talked about since the beginning of school three weeks ago. But somehow he always found a way to tune out their conversations.

The student in front of him passed him a yellow sheet of paper. Arnold stared at it. The names of every student in the ninth grade class were listed. The instructions at the top of the paper said to vote for five girls and five boys. The girl and boy with the most votes would be named Homecoming King and Queen, and the runner up would be Prince and Princess. Shrugging, Arnold checked the box next to Gerald's name. Homecoming King was exactly the kind of position his best friend would desire. Arnold's pencil dangled in the air. Other than Gerald, he had absolutely no idea who to vote for. He knew who he was "supposed" to vote for: the popular kids, the ones who played sports and wore name brand clothes. The ones who were supposedly his friends. Yet did they really deserve it?

Once in the fourth grade, Rhonda Lloyd had held a party for the "cool" people only. It was the first taste many of his friends would have on the pain of being excluded, of knowing you weren't "in". That time, even though he was invited to the "cool" party, Arnold had retaliated by holding held a "geek" party on the roof of his house. Why not retaliate this time as well?

There were others who deserved to be Homecoming Queen and King more than the "cool" kids. Others who were more caring. Those who chose their friends based on something other than popularity. He looked at the girl sitting next to him. She was deep in thought, nibbling on her pencil, no doubt carefully weighing the pros and cons of who to vote for. He smiled and checked the box next to "Phoebe Hyerndahl." Rapidly he checked other names. Sheena Reynolds, who was trying to start an environmental club after learning that Hillwood High didn't have one. Nadine Lionel, who had hour long conversations with her science teacher on the different subspecies of insects. Sid, Stinky, and Harold, who were great guys despite the fact that (he smiled) they were always getting into some kind of trouble. On the first day of ninth grade, the three of them had gotten a two day suspension for setting twenty seven gardener snakes loose in the east hall girl's bathroom. To this day there were still girls who refused to use the bathrooms at school. Arnold checked off Eugene's name, the boy who always kept a positive front no matter what came his way.

He had to choose two more girls. Arnold hesitated next to "Lila Sawyer." She certainly deserved the title: she was smart, funny, caring, and always nice to everyone regardless of their social status. She was also the girl, though he hated to admit it, that he still had a crush on after five years. It was almost pathetic-if her feelings for him hadn't changed in five years, then they certainly wouldn't change now. Still, he couldn't help liking her. She was everything he wanted in a possible girlfriend. He was starting to never think that he would never find the right girl. The "oh–so-special someone", as Lila would say. All the popular girls had flirted with him for years, of course, but he had never been interested. Quite honestly, he had never even had a girlfriend before.

Arnold sighed and checked the box. Lila, of course, would take her boyfriend Justin to Homecoming. They had been dating for six months, and everyone said they were the "perfect couple". He played love songs for her on his guitar. She wrote him poems and notes with hearts on them. They volunteered at homeless shelters together on weekends and went to Sunday picnics. Justin was the kind of guy that got along with everyone. How could Lila not be in love with him?

One more girl. A single name caught his eye. Helga Pataki. The automatic thought came into his head: _She won't win_. He shook his head. What happened to looking on the bright side? She might win. There was a possibility that any of the people Arnold voted for might win.

But who would vote for Helga? A scowling, moody, loud girl who couldn't care less about what was "in". The girl with a temper so bad that she still, at the age of fourteen, was known to get into fistfights with the infamous duo of "Ole Betsy" and "The Five Avengers". The girl who didn't dress in the latest fashions and rarely wore makeup. The girl who was called every unimaginable name behind her back but never to her face. The girl who had few friends.

Arnold wasn't even sure if he could call her _his_ friend. When they talked, which wasn't often, she was usually yelling or snapping at him about something. Sometimes, though, she was almost friendly toward him. Though "football head" was a name she had called him since kindergarten, it was now almost a fond nickname rather than an insult. Even when she mocked him, her voice had a humorous pitch to it, as if she were just joking with him rather than trying to hurt him. But then, hadn't his relationship with Helga always been complicated?

Arnold scratched a checkmark next to her name.

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Stupid Homecoming Dance, Helga thought. Girls in their fancy-schmancy dresses and guys spending a bunch of money to stand in a crowded, hot school gym for three hours. She looked at her ballot. Homecoming Queen and King. What a crock! A couple of air headed, dolled up "popular kids" to pretend that they're the greatest just because they got the most votes. She read the top of her ballot. "The chosen King and Queen will have a special dance in which the dance floor will be cleared just for them." Helga rolled her eyes. How stupid. There was only one thing to do. Closing her eyes, she checked eight random names. What did she care who got the title? The whole thing was ridiculous.

And yet….

She imagined being in Arnold's arms as he swept her across the dance floor. The skirt of her formal dress swished around her legs. He was staring at her intently in a way that he never had before. Elegantly they danced together in rhythm. All eyes were on them, the Homecoming King and Queen. Things had never been more perfect.

The dream painted a smile on her face. She put a check next to her and Arnold's names. _Arnold, my darling, may the ink that I engrave next to our names be a symbol of my fleeting, most likely impossible, yet wonderful dream. _

"May I have a volunteer to take the ballots down to the office?" The nasally voice of her biology teacher jerked her out of her thoughts. Helga's hand shot up immediately. Anything for a few minutes out of this boring class. She hated biology almost as much as algebra.

As she walked down the hallway, a trashcan in the corner beckoned to her. Seizing the opportunity, she ducked behind it and retrieved her locket from under her shirt. "Oh, Arnold," she whispered, tracing his face with her finger. "Yet another milestone in our young lives are we about to face: our first school dance. Dare I hope that maybe we can approach it together? Is it possible that perhaps, after all these years of secret admiring, I am at last ready to confess to you my true feelings, and this time, not take back my words?" She drew in a breath. She could feel it. A change had come in her. The daily routine that she had grown so used to was becoming tiresome. Though she loved her dreams, she somehow resented them at the same time, because they were a mere mockery of what she so badly wanted to be real.

"But what if, my love, you don't feel the same way? What if I finally confess, only to be rejected by your empty heart? Alas, the fear I have had for years will have to be faced sometime if I ever want you to be mine. But now? So soon? Ooooh, my darling, what a decision," she sighed, clutching the locket to her heart.

"Huuuuuuh hawww….huuuuh hawwww….huuuuh hawww…"

Helga turned and delivered a smooth punch to Brainy across the face, sending him and the yellow papers he was carrying flying into the wall.

"Helga?"

"Arnold!" she shoved the locket back into her shirt and snatched up her stack of yellow papers. She turned and became face to face with the boy she loved. After eleven years, he still made her feel weak. "What are _you_ doing here, Football Head? I thought you were too much of a goody good to cut class." Her words echoed off the walls off the empty hallways. The tone of her voice was so biting that it made her wince inside. So much for thinking she was ready to confess.

"I'm just going to the office," he replied, holding up his own stack of papers. "Whoa," he looked over Helga's shoulder, "what happened to Brainy?" Brainy was sprawled against the wall, his eyes looking dazed behind his thick glasses perched atop a zit-covered nose. Yellow papers were scattered randomly around him.

Helga shrugged. "He tripped."

"Uuuhhhhh…" Brainy crawled forward and began picking up the papers from the floor. "I'm fine."

Arnold shrugged and fell into step beside Helga. "So, anyway, there's something I forgot to tell you. My fourteenth birthday is today, and I'm having a party tonight. You know, at my house. On the roof. And you're invited. You know, if you're not busy. Phoebe already said she'd come."

Helga scoffed. "I thought from the people you've been hanging with lately, you'd only invite the _cool_ kids to your party." Was it her imagination, or had something changed in his expression? Had she hit a raw nerve?

"You know I'm not like that, Helga." She was surprised by the harshness of his voice. "Anyway, you don't have to come."

The tone of his voice said he was sorry he'd invited her. Had she made him angry? Criminy, why did she always have to say the meanest possible thing to him? "I was _joking_, Football Head. Don't have a litter of kittens. I'll check my schedule, and if it's open, I'll try to stop by your little celebration."

He seemed to relax a little. "Okay, Helga. Sorry I snapped at you. I've just been thinking a lot lately."

She pulled open the door of the office and they walked inside. "Criminy, Arnold, has it ever occurred to you that it's possible to think too much? Especially with a head like that." She handed the papers to the secretary. "See you around, bucko."

Arnold watched her walk out of the office, with a stride that was more of a stomp than a step. He handed his own papers to the secretary and started to walk back to class.

Helga G. Pataki was the hardest thing he had ever tried to figure out, a hundred times harder than last night's math homework. He had no idea what was running through her mind. Sometimes he couldn't figure out if she hated him or if she….

'_I love you, Arnold! I've always loved you, ever since I first laid eyes on your stupid football head!'_

Whoa. Where did _that_ come from? Arnold shook his head. That memory didn't mean anything. They were just kids then. It was just a game, a trick she had played on him. Something to make him laugh in the tense and serious minutes before his neighborhood was scheduled to be torn down.

Yet neither of them had laughed.

And….she had kissed him. The memory still made his cheeks burn slightly. Of course, that had been part of the joke too. Hadn't it? He really shouldn't think about it. She probably didn't even remember what had happened.

But there was one thing he had to admit: that night, on the rooftop of the Future Tech Industries Building, he had received the only real kiss he had ever had in his life, even to this day. Of course, there was the fourth grade school play, and the time he was in a Babewatch episode as part of his prize for winning a sandcastle competition in the fourth grade, but that didn't really count. Coincidentally, both of those times had also been with Helga.

Or, he thought, maybe not so coincidentally.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Oooh, lots of drama in this chapter! Gotta love the drama! Chapter 3 may not be posted for awhile, unfortunately. This one took me hours to write and I'm not gonna have as much time since Thanksgiving break is almost over. It also took me a long time to get this document to upload because of all the problems the fanfiction network has been having. I'm gonna try to finish this whole fic by Christmas, however! Also, I'd like to give a special thanks to everyone in the Arnold's room chat who helped me out with this chapter when I got stuck. (Especially epicpiefight, whom without I wouldn't have known the meaning of the word "parapet".)

Personal Inscriptions:

Acosta perez jose ramiro: Muchas gracias! I always wondered what happened to that lizard. He couldn't have just disappeared, right?

Hellerick Ferlibay: The first chapter was kind of slow, since I felt the need to explain everything. Bad habit of mine.  Hopefully you'll find the next few a bit more original. You're absouletly right about Lila. Sorry for the mistake. I changed it!

Silverwolf1212: Is this a soon enough update for you? 

mxnhpfreak: I have lots of twists in mind. I'm pretty sure that this is going to be a little (or a lot) different from a typical A/H fic.

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 2

Lila skipped a bit as she walked down the uneven, cracked sidewalk. Today had been ever so wonderful, and it could only get better. When she got home, she would take a nice long bubble bath, do the rest of her homework, and then Justin would stop by her house at six thirty and they would go to Arnold's party. Everyone she knew was going to be there, and it would certainly be fun.

She took her keys out of the pocket of her baggy jeans-a touch of style from her earlier years living in the country-and unlocked the door. She stepped inside and closed it carefully. The hinges on the door were loose and rusty and had been known to fall off.

Dropping her backpack and looking around the living room, she sighed. She might have to change her plans a bit to clean the house. Daddy had been working overtime at the factory in the past few weeks and had barely bothered with anything else. Unread mail and week old newspapers were strewn about the floor. Every wood surface was covered with at least a centimeter of dust. Lila peeked into the kitchen. Here, it was even worse. Dirty dishes were piled in stacks on the counter. The kitchen table was stained and had bits of food stuck to it.

She heard a rustling sound coming from her father's bedroom. "Daddy?" She walked down the narrow, badly lit hallway. The light bulbs needed to be replaced as well. She pushed open the bedroom door. Her father was sitting at his desk in the corner, bent over. "Daddy?..."

"Lila!" he jumped up from his chair in surprise.

She looked at the desk where he had been sitting. Tears immediately filled her eyes at what she saw. "Oh, Daddy," she whispered. "Please, not again. You promised…."

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. What was there to say? The fine white powder lined up in neat rows on top of the hand mirror on his desk said it all. The rolled up dollar bill was even still clutched in his right hand. He had broken his promise, again. He had gone back to his old ways. The months of tears, therapy, and repenting meant nothing now.

Stumbling backwards out into the hallway, she turned and ran. "Lila…." His voice called out after her. It didn't matter. There were no words to take away what she had just witnessed. Her world became a distorted blur of tears as she wretched open the front door. Lila staggered over the threshold and sprinted down the sidewalk.

Why, why, why? Why did he have to do this? After all these years, she still couldn't comprehend it. What tore her heart apart the most was she thought that things were really going to be okay this time. He had finished group therapy last May. His words still rang clear in her head.

'_I'm clean, Lila. And this time it's for real. I love you too much to go down that road again. With everything that's good in me, I promise you, never again.'_

And he had kept his promise, for a while. This summer had been ever so wonderful. He took her places and met all her friends. The house was always clean and he didn't miss a single day of work, which brought in more money. They always had enough to eat, and Daddy cooked dinner almost every night.

Was it her fault he had started again? Had she made too many demands? She shouldn't have let the house get so bad; she should've cleaned it sooner. It wouldn't have killed her. She had responsibilities too.

Weary, she stopped running and leaned up against a building, gasping for breath. After a bit, she made her way up to the stoop of the building and knocked softly on the door.

The door opened to reveal a tall, lanky teenager with shaggy brown hair hanging in his hazel eyes. "Hey, baby," greeted Justin, pulling open the door. "Didn't expect-" He broke off when he saw her face.

She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, Justin," she whispered. "It's awful, just ever so awful. Daddy started using again."

"Oh," Justin sighed, wrapping his arms around her. "Baby…"

"I came home from school and I saw him-"

"Sshhhhh." Justin put a finger to her lips. "It's okay, Lila. Just don't think about it, okay?" He smiled and put his fingers in his ears. "I don't want to hear about it, and I'm sure you don't want to talk about it. So why don't you just come inside and spend the rest of the day here?"

"But, Justin…"

"We'll go to Arnold's party tonight. And it'll take your mind off the whole thing. Look, baby, there's nothing you or I can do about what happened. Your dad has to make his own decisions. So just try not to think about it." He kissed her forehead and guided her inside the house.

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"Iiiii'm a Yankee Doodle dddaaaaannndy, a Yaaaaankee Doodle do or diiiiiiiiieee." Grandma sang. Arnold had come home from school to find her, Oskar, Ernie, and Mr. Huynh stomping around the house in a sort of miniature parade. Oskar was playing his saxophone, Ernie, a tuba, and Mr. Huynh, an accordion. Grandma, of course, was at the front, leading the band, singing with a baton in hand. The band stopped its patriotic song when they saw Arnold.

"Afternoon, Arnold," his grandma greeted him.

"We were just doin' a little practin' for your party tonight," Ernie explained.

Arnold smiled. "Thanks for agreeing to play at my party, guys." His boarding house family may not have been the most popular band around, but they were the cheapest and probably the most unique.

"It is no problem," said Mr. Huynh. "I just hope it does not rain. That would be very bad!"

"Come on, gang," Grandma waved her baton. "We have to practice more so we'll be ready for the fashion boutique. One, two, three…I come from Aaaaallllabma with my banjo on my kneeeee…I'm goin' to Louisiana myyyyyy true love for to seeee…" The parade stomped up the stairs, leaving Arnold alone in the foyer.

Arnold shook his head in amazement and briefly wondered what it was like to live in a normal house. Probably really boring. "Grandpa?" he called.

"In here, short man," came the reply. Arnold followed the voice to the kitchen, where he found his grandfather spreading peanut butter on a piece of bread. "See, Arnold?" he said, waving the knife around and splaying peanut butter everywhere. "I finally got smart. Your grandma's cooking has had its last number on me. From now on, I eat nothing but sandwiches." Grandpa slapped the two pieces of bread together and took a bite. "Want some?" he held out the sandwich. Peanut butter oozed out of the bread and onto the table.

Arnold wrinkled his nose. "Uh, Grandpa, that peanut butter looks awfully runny."

"What the…" Phil squinted at the label on the "peanut butter" jar. "Why, what do you know! This isn't peanut butter, it's mustard." He chuckled as he screwed the lid back on. "So, when's that party of yours supposed to start? Those loonies have been banging around the house all day. I couldn't get any peace even in my office!"

"It's supposed to start at six. But most people will probably arrive fashionably late. Gerald's coming over at four to help set up." Arnold sighed, remembering what Gerald had told him earlier.

"Why so down, short man? I thought you'd be happy to have a party. Even if you have to have _those_ people as your pathetic excuse for a band."

"I am happy," Arnold explained. "It's just I'm kind of worried. Gerald told these two girls that they could bring extra friends. People I didn't even invite. I just hope things don't get too out of hand."

"Don't worry, Arnold, our roof is huge! Besides," Grandpa smirked, "Pookie'll chase most of them away anyway." The smirk suddenly disappeared from his face as he jumped up and clutched his stomach. "Oooooh, the mustard. If you need me I'll be in my office!" He ran out of the room.

Arnold rolled his eyes and went upstairs to get ready. At ten minutes after four, Gerald arrived…with some unexpected accompanists.

"Oh….hi, Mandy. Hi, Christina." Arnold glanced at Gerald for an explanation.

"I kind of just, you know, ran into these ladies on my way here, and they decided it would be fun to come help set up. That's cool, right?"

"Uh….okay. Come in." Arnold led the three of them upstairs.

"Your house is, like, so totally cool!" Mandy exclaimed.

"It's so big!" added Christina.

"Uh….yeah, thanks. It's a boarding house." He led them through a door and up second flight of stairs to the roof, all the way with Christina and Mandy saying how "totally cool" everything was.

"Wow…." said Christina when they reached the roof.

"This is…." Mandy said.

"SO TOTALLY COOL!" they exclaimed in unison.

Arnold rolled his eyes. What could Gerald ever see in these two? "Okay, we have to move some tables up here, all the food, and a few chairs in case people get tired…"

"You mean we actually have to move furniture? All the way up these stairs?" Mandy asked incredulously.

"That's the plan, yes."

"Oh, we're not doing any of _that_ stuff." Christina examined her nails. "We just got manicures. We only came to plan the social scene." She grinned. "You will not believe all the cool people we invited. A bunch of upperclassmen are coming! A bunch of juniors, and even a few seniors."

Arnold gritted his teeth and tried hard to control the mixture of anger and annoyance he felt rising. He and Gerald made their way downstairs alone to get the tables, leaving the girls chattering excitedly upstairs.

"Honestly, why did you bring them?" Arnold asked when the girls were out of earshot.

"Aw, come on, man, they're just trying to help. They just want you to have a cool party. Besides," he winked at Arnold, "you know they're really foxy."

"The seventies are over, Gerald."

"Just give them a chance. You're the one who's always trying to find the best in people."

This was true. But it was very hard to find good qualities in Mandy and Christina. They stood on the roof and chatted for two hours, never lifting a finger even to carry a bag of chips up the stairs. And from the snippets he caught of their conversations, he wasn't impressed. They spent most of their time bashing other people, talking about nearly every one of their classmates behind their backs. Arnold was getting very aggravated with them by the time six o clock rolled around. Gerald, however, was far from aggravated.

"Would you ladies like to dance?" he asked, holding out his hands.

Mandy pointed out the obvious. "There's no music! The band isn't here yet."

"Music is optional," he assured them as he took both their hands.

Arnold watched as Gerald sauntered across the floor, engaging in dramatic, made up dance moves. It looked like disco combined with ballroom dancing. The girls giggled, trying to keep up with his strange rhythm. Arnold rolled his eyes. It was about the third time that day he had done so. Where was the "boarding house band", anyway? It was five after six.

"Tada!" Gerald finished his dance moves with a side split. The girls giggled and clapped their hands. "So totally cool," they assured him.

Gerald stood up. "That was just a taste of what I can do. If you want to see more, how about we go to a real dance?"

_Oh, boy,_ thought Arnold. _Here we go._

"How would one of you lovely ladies like to go to Homecoming with me?" Gerald bowed and extended his hand.

The girls looked at each other and frowned. "We would love to," said Mandy.

"But we don't like going anywhere without each other!" Christina explained. "If there was a guy who was like, your best friend or something, and then we went in a big group, with all the cool kids, of course, then we would go."

"No problem," Gerald said. "Arnold will take one of you."

"What?!" he looked at Gerald in shock. "Wait a minute…"

"Come on, man. It'll be fun. We'll be in a group with all our friends. Besides, who else were you planning to ask?"

He had a point there. Arnold couldn't think of a single girl he really desired to go with. Well, there was one girl. Lila's freckled face popped into his mind. Out of the question, of course.

Gerald had a pleading look on his face. Arnold knew that this was important to him.

It was only a three hour dance. If it would make his best friend happy…

"Okay, I'll go," he sighed.

The door leading downstairs burst open and Grandma emerged, waving her baton. Behind her, the band was plugging away at their instruments, followed by a long line of teenagers.

"Paaaaarrrtttyyyy!" shouted Arnold's grandmother

The roof quickly filled with kids, and by six thirty, the party was in full swing. The band paraded around, playing whatever random song Grandma designated. Arnold tried to greet all of his classmates as they came in, but there were so many! He had invited the majority of the ninth grade class, plus a few others who were older or younger.

"Hey, Patti," he greeted the six foot tall, muscular junior. She pushed a lock of golden brown hair out of her face and smiled at him.

"I brought a fruit salad," she said, holding out a bowl. Arnold directed her to the food table, where Sid, Stinky, and Harold were having fun stuffing their faces.

"Heeeey Harold, look," Stinky pointed at the girl with a chicken wing he was holding.

Sid elbowed Harold. "It's your giiiiirlfriend."

Patti smiled at their words as she set the bowl on the nearly full table.

"Shut up!" Harold shouted with his mouth full, spraying crumbs all over his companions. "Just because I asked her to Homecoming doesn't mean she's my girlfriend…" he leaned over to Patti with a smile and whispered, "…yet."

"Ah, shucks, Harold, I reckon we're just messing with you," Stinky said. "On accounta we're jealous of ya. Neither of us has a gal to go to Homecoming with yet."

"I'm not jealous," Sid exclaimed. "I know exactly who I'm taking." He pointed across the room to Rhonda Lloyd. She was in the middle of a circle of popular kids, including Gerald, Mandy, Christina, Iggy, and a few others. As usual, she was well dressed in a black knee length skirt, a white designer sweater, and a pair of black velvet boots. She was the center of attention, talking loudly about something. "I haven't asked her yet, but I know she wants to go with me. She's probably talking about me right now!"

"Sid is such a loser!" was what Ms. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was actually telling her friends. "He still wears his hat on backwards. Heeellllo, the nineties are over!"

Arnold winced at her words as he walked over to the group. He wasn't pleased that she was making fun of someone she had known since grade school. Nor was he pleased that most of the kids around her were laughing at what she had said. Fortunately, Gerald wasn't among them. His attention was diverted to something across the roof.

Arnold followed his gaze to Helga and Phoebe, who had just come upstairs. Gerald stared at the petite Japanese girl as she walked over to the food table with her best friend, talking and laughing. He watched the way her chocolate brown eyes gazed from behind her glasses at the crowd around her, taking in the unfolding social scene. The way she tucked a strand of silky black hair behind her tiny ear. The way her delicate features lit up as she engaged in a conversation with Helga.

"Go talk to her," Arnold suggested, his voice interrupting Gerald's thoughts.

Gerald played dumb. "Who?"

"Uh, Phoebe?" Arnold gave him a "duh" look.

Gerald averted his eyes. "I'm sure, I mean, this is a really big party. I'm sure there's other people she wants to talk to. I'll just be in the way."

Arnold gazed at his best friend. Gerald chatted up girls daily, and yet he couldn't find the courage to talk to Phoebe. Why was he so nervous?

"Hey, guys," greeted Justin, his arm around Lila as the two of them approached the group. Inside Arnold cringed. Even after six months, he still hadn't gotten used to seeing the two of them together. It hurt.

Cheerful greets were bestowed upon the couple. Lila and Justin were well respected in the popular crowd, though they were friends with pretty much everyone.

"Lila, that is such a cute outfit! It has such a country charm!" gushed Rhonda. Lila was wearing a white and green checked blouse, baggy jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a white scarf around her neck. Her auburn hair was pulled into a French braid that fell down the length of her back.

"Thank you," Lila said quietly, almost in a whisper, with a small smile. She didn't add in her usual "ever so much". Arnold was startled at her voice. Something was definitely wrong, but neither her boyfriend nor anyone else in the group seemed to notice.

"Oh my gaaaaawwwd!" Christina suddenly screamed. She and Mandy suddenly broke away from the group and ran to the door. A group of older guys had just emerged onto the roof. Arnold didn't recognize any of them. The girls squealed and hugged each one of the guys in turn.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Justin, releasing his arm from Lila. "I haven't seen those guys in forever!" He ran toward the guys. The rest of the group except for Arnold and Lila followed him, leaving the two of them alone.

Lila stood, her eyes glazed and unfocused, staring at the floor. Several yards away, her boyfriend exchanged greetings and bear hugs with the new arrivals, forgetting all about the girl he had left standing alone.

"Do you know who those guys are?" Arnold asked her.

"Justin was telling me about them earlier." Again, that same quiet, almost whispery voice, not like Lila at all. "Christina and Mandy invited them. They're old friends of his. He really hoped they'd come tonight."

He stepped toward her, cautiously, as if she would break to pieces with any sudden movement. "Lila, are you all right? You seem really down about something."

She sighed. Tears began to fill behind her aqua eyes. He wanted so badly to help her, to wrap his arms around her, hold her tight, and take away the pain she was obviously feeling. "Oh, I suppose it's just some family problems."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked gently. They started to walk together toward the other side of the huge roof. Here, the light of the lamps that Arnold and Gerald had set up didn't reach, so the area was bathed only in faint moonlight. Arnold and Lila were at a distance from the rest of the party. There was only one person who noticed their disappearance.

"Where's the football head?" Helga asked Phoebe.

"I'm certain he should be by his best friend's side as usual, but he's not." Phoebe said as she stared at the boy with the tall stack of hair. He was standing by the doorway, talking to all of his usual friends, plus a few other boys she didn't recognize.

Helga noticed the way the Japanese girl looked at Gerald. "Oh, criminy, Phoebe!" she sighed. "Go on, go over there and talk to him."

Eagerly her best friend said, "Are you certain you don't mind me leaving you here alone?"

'"No sweat," Helga assured her. She watched as Phoebe practically dashed over to Gerald and immediately animated him in a conversation. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the food table and refilled her cup of punch. Why didn't those two stop torturing themselves and just get together already?

"Nice night, huh?" said a husky voice from behind her. Helga turned and saw a tanned, muscular guy standing behind her. He was much older than she was, probably a junior or senior. A mop of curly black hair covered his head and fell into his grey eyes. He scratched his head and looked up. "I mean, it's a nice night with the moon and everything…"

She just barely stifled a laugh. Was he _hitting_ on her? "Sure it's a nice night. It'd be even nicer if you left me alone," she said blatantly.

He laughed and reached over, grabbing a plate from the table and filling it with food. "Coy, are we?"

Helga narrowed her eyes. Couldn't this guy take a hint? Any more of this, and she might have to put The Five Avengers back into a job.

Deciding that she would rather not start something at her beloved's own birthday party, she stomped away from Mr. Smooth, crossing the other side of the roof to the glass ceiling of Arnold's room. Once there, she lied down on her stomach, pressing her face to the glass. She had only been it in a few times, almost none of the times for pleasant reasons. It was exactly as she remembered it: neatly made bed, bookshelves, an alarm clock made out of potatoes and wires and a miniature clay Arnold, stereo, computer, and a remote controlled couch.

Arnold's room. The temple to his soul. Did she dare enter?

Cautiously she looked around. No one was paying attention, so she carefully lifted up the glass and slipped inside. Helga landed with a soft thud on Arnold's bed. For awhile she just lay there, enjoying the softness of his blue down comforter. Her mind wondered what it would be like to lay here in bed at night with her beloved. She crawled forward and buried her face in his blue and white striped pillow case, breathing in the scent of his shampoo that she loved so much. She had searched every drug store for the past five years, smelling every shampoo on the shelf, but she could never find this exact scent. Clerks were starting to think she was either crazy or had some kind of shampoo addiction.

Lifting herself from the bed, she looked around the room. The place was spotless. The floor was bare, the shelves neatly organized. Arnold was almost as bad as Phoebe when it came to neatness, but she loved him all the more for it. Helga winced as she looked at his closet, remembering the unpleasant night she had once spent in it.

Crossing the room, Helga collapsed on Arnold's red couch with a sigh of joy. She pulled out her locket and kissed it. "Oh my beloved, here I sit in the place where you spend most of your days. For most of your life you have laughed, cried, played, worked, and slept within these four walls. And here am I, your greatest admirer. How deep is my longing for you! How I wish I could laugh, cry, play, work, and sleep here with you. Ooh, Arnold…" she fell face down onto the couch and closed her eyes.

"Cool room, huh?" she heard a husky voice say. Helga jumped up from the couch, shoving her locket into her shirt. Standing in front of her was the guy who had been hitting on her earlier. Her heartbeat quickened. How much had he heard? Why hadn't she heard him come in?

Well, doi, she told herself. She pretty much blocked out everything when talking to her Arnold locket. Her fists clenched. This guy wasn't making her too happy. "What're you doing here?" she demanded.

A slow smile crossed his face. It wasn't a friendly smile. It gave her the creeps. "Oh, just checking out the room," he answered.

She rolled her eyes. Whatever this guy was up to, she wasn't sticking around for it. "Whatever. I'm out of here."

He stepped forward. "You're not going anywhere."

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Arnold and Lila walked together, staring at the crescent moon. After awhile, he broke the silence by once again asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Arnold." Lila jumped up onto the parapet and let her legs dangle. "I'm certain you don't want to hear about it."

He climbed up next to her. Taking a chance, he put a hand lightly on her shoulder. She didn't pull away. "I'd like to hear about it, if it'll make you feel better to talk about it."

She turned her eyes toward him.

He waited.

After several seconds, she managed an almost imperceptible nod.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Hi, everyone! This chapter is finally up! Whoo-hoo! Sorry it took so long, but there are a lot of crucial parts in this chapter that I had to get just right. Yes, I know this chapter is a bit short, but a lot happens here so hopefully that makes up for it! On a better note, I'm finally on winter break, which means a lot more writing time. Hopefully chapter 4 should be posted in a week or so, if not less.

Personal Inscriptions:

mxnhpfreak: Yeah, really, what's up with the Lila haters? I'm sure she's not a bitch, but she's not perfect either. See, now are you starting to get the idea behind the title:) Really, you thought the last chapter was short? Hmm…I actually thought it was too long. Oh, well!

xo Just Another Suicide xo: Thanks! I'm glad you finally found this, and I hope you like this chapter.

apie: Thanks, I try to do as good of a job as possible keeping them in character. And cliffhanger, eh heh, yes, I am evil! But see, then you guys are more likely to read.

China-kouran: Here's your update. :)

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter Three

Focusing her eyes on the blonde boy next to her, Lila slowly began to recount the day's events that had caused her so much grief. "When I came home today from school, Daddy was alone in his bedroom and he was…" her eyes dropped and her voice became so low that Arnold had to lean forward to hear her…"snorting cocaine."

Arnold had to fight to keep himself from physically showing the shock he felt inside. He knew, as did many of his classmates, that Lila's home life wasn't the easiest. But he never suspected this degree of a problem. Though Arnold had shouldered many a problem from kids and adults alike, he had been kept relatively innocent within the walls of the boarding house. Never before had something like this been presented to him.

Taking a deep breath, Lila continued, "It wasn't the first time. He's been using on and off ever since-" She took a deep, shuddering breath, as if the words she were about to say were spiked with poison.

His hand was still on her shoulder. He moved it to her back and began stroking gently. She looked at him uncertainly. Her eyes were no longer tear-filled, but instead hard and flat, as if she were struggling to block out the pain. "Justin is the only one that knows about my dad. But he never wanted to hear the whole story. To be just perfectly honest, I've never told anyone…"

"It's okay," he said tenderly, hoping his voice didn't tremble. "If you want to talk, I want to listen."

With a small sigh, she stared down at her hands, which she had begun wringing in her lap. "Daddy's been using on and off ever since Mama died."

The bereavement of Lila's mother was something he'd always suspected, since Lila never mentioned her, but his suspicions were never confirmed. Until now. Involuntarily Arnold closed his eyes. He too knew the pain that came with the absence of a mother.

Lila continued, "Everything was ever so wonderful until then." Her voice lost some of its despondency at the reminiscence of happier times. "The three of us lived together in our little stone cottage in Pleasantville. The cottage was built by my great-grandfather and had an old fashioned charm to it that I loved ever so much. It was built way back in the fields, away from everything else. Mama planted flowers all around the cottage, and it was ever so beautiful. Back then, Daddy worked for Mr. Christen, who owned the biggest farm in town. He helped with the crops and the animals. Mama was the vice principal at the Pleasantville School." A small smile crossed her face. "I was ever so happy. I had so many friends, plus all of my cousins that lived there. We would play in the fields and climb trees just every single day until it was too dark to see." The smile left her face like a huffed out candle. "Then, when I was seven, Mama got sick. The doctors said she had a rare form of brain cancer. There was no kind of treatment for it."

"I'm sorry," Arnold said quietly.

Lila swallowed. "It happened so quickly. It only took a few months. Almost as if she was there one moment and gone the next." She paused, staring up at the moon. "Sometimes, at night, I think I hear her singing me a lullaby…."

"I know," he whispered.

Lila turned away from the sky and saw that his eyes were closed. He really _did_ know, she realized, more so than anyone else. She knew her story was causing him pain. "Do you want me to stop?..."

"Go on," he said, his eyes still closed.

She sighed. "Daddy fell to pieces after Mama died. We tried to make it on our own, but it just wasn't the same without Mama. Daddy….he was in so much pain. I suppose he needed something to take away the pain. I don't know where he got the cocaine, or how. We never had any drugs in the house when Mama was alive, not even aspirin. She always made us some herbal tea when we were sick." Lila stared down at her boots. "One night, about two months after Mama died, I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs, and I saw him…." She stopped.

Arnold opened his eyes. "Doing cocaine?" he probed gently.

The invisible shield that she had surrounded herself with broke, and the tears filled her eyes once again. "I asked him why he was lining up powdered sugar on Mama's mirror…" She let out a heartbreaking sigh. "It took me a long time to understand that he was sick. Not sick like Mama, but almost as bad. He tried ever so hard to stop. He went to programs, group therapy. He saw an addiction specialist. Each time, things would get better for a little while. Then, he would start up again. When he was high it was oh so awful. He wasn't Daddy anymore. He stayed in his room, sometimes for days at a time. When he did come out, he'd get ever so angry at me for little things, and he'd yell. Sometimes he'd even get violent."

Arnold's head swung toward her, his eyes wide and frantic. Quickly, she shook her head. "No! I don't mean…in that way. He'd be violent to objects, not people. He'd throw furniture around."

Arnold relaxed a little. "Is that why you had to move here in the fourth grade?" he asked. "Because of your Dad's…illness?"

Sadly, she nodded. "Daddy lost his job at the farm. He was missing too many days of work. We had no money. Mama had saved up a lot of money before she died, but Daddy spent almost all of it on cocaine. After he lost his job, things got really bad for us. We had bills that were months overdue. On the worst days we didn't even have enough money to eat." Her body shuddered a little at the memory. "Then, Daddy's old friend Elliot, who lived here in Hillwood, heard about the troubles we were having. Elliot knew about Daddy's problems and thought that we might be better off living here in the city, where there wouldn't be so many reminders of Mama and we could make a fresh start. Elliot worked at the Yahoo soda factory and thought that he might be able to talk his boss, Mr. Mitchell, into giving Daddy a job. Even though I knew it was for the best, it was really hard to leave Pleasantville. Most of our family was there, and we had to leave them behind. We also had to sell our stone cottage that had been in our family for three generations. Even that didn't bring in any money, because after we had paid off all our bills and the first month's rent for our new apartment in Hillwood, there was nothing left." She sighed. "We never went back. There were just too many bad memories. In these five years, we've never even visited."

Arnold pictured the smiling, vivacious, slightly shy nine year old girl that had stepped into Mr. Simmons's classroom on her first day of school. Soon after, she had become the most popular girl in the fourth grade with her jokes, politeness, and the sweet and kind manner she carried about herself. Who would've guessed the circumstances that had brought her to the city? "You seemed so happy…"

"I was, for awhile," Lila explained. "After we moved here, Daddy stopped using. It seemed like things were going to be good again, especially after Mr. Mitchell gave Daddy a job at the factory."

"But things got worse again?"

"The stress of the city was ever so hard on Daddy. He worked ten hours a day at the factory. And he was lonely. We both were. We had left all of our family and old friends behind. The cycle started again. On and off. He would use, then stop for awhile, then start again, then stop again." She met his eyes. "I still don't entirely understand it, Arnold. I know he's sick, but after all the promises he made me, I still don't know why he would go back to that lifestyle. It only makes both of us miserable." She paused, contemplating a thought. "Maybe it does make him happy, but he certainly doesn't seem happy when he's high."

Arnold shook his head. "I doubt it makes him happy to do that to you, Lila."

"Then why does he do it?" she whimpered, a frightened child desperately seeking answers.

He sighed. "There's no easy answer, but it sounds to me like maybe he does it because it makes him forget for awhile. It makes him forget about all the things that hurt so badly."

"I wonder…" her lip trembled. "I wonder if maybe I caused him to go back this time. Just maybe I didn't do enough…."

"Lila." He moved his hand back to her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You know it wasn't your fault."

Slowly, she nodded. "I suppose so. I just…when I saw him today…I wanted to believe him last time when he said that he would never use again. I wanted to believe that just ever so much. But the cocaine was right there on his desk. I turned and ran all the way to Justin's house. I haven't gone home yet. I wonder…" her voice trailed off.

"Maybe this will be the turning point for your dad," Arnold said, looking on the bright side as usual. "Maybe now he'll finally realize the affect this is having on you…and him."

"Gosh, I hope so. I want that so much, just ever so much." She couldn't even begin to explain to him how deep her longing was that maybe, just maybe, her father could be free from his addiction.

They both fell silent. He looked carefully at her face. There were traces of past tears, but her eyes of now were dry.

She gave a small smile. "You're staring at me."

"I'm trying to read your emotions," he explained. "Are you okay? I mean, it must've been pretty rough to talk about that, after holding it in for five years."

"Actually, Arnold, I feel quite all right," she said, surprising herself as much as him. "I'm relieved that I could finally tell someone what I was going through, and they wouldn't be shocked or repulsed or…or…" She shrugged.

"I wouldn't," he said quietly. "Never. And I'm glad you could tell me."

She had such a kind, gentle smile. Even with bloodshot eyes and dried tears on her freckled cheeks, she was still beautiful. He realized that with everything that had been going at home, she still came to school every day, smiling and helpful and pleasant to everyone. Even those who weren't nice back. She had had to do this for the past five years, hiding her pain and pretending that everything was fine. It was amazing. She was so strong. He looked at his hand, which was still on her shoulder. Gently he moved his arm to her ribs and looped it around her, wanting so desperately to provide her with some scrap of comfort. Some bit of warmth. She blew out a sigh and laid her head down on his shoulder. The classic position of a friend comforting a friend.

"I'm ever so glad that you were the one I shared it with," said Lila. "We've been friends for so long…"

"Five years," he reminded her.

"Right. Just ever so long." She turned her head so she was looking up at him. She looked happier, now. More relaxed. "I don't know what to say, except…thank you. Thank you for listening."

He used his free hand to brush from her face a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her French Braid. Her hair was so soft. The color, a deep red with a tint of brown, intrigued him. He vaguely recalled seventh grade English, where he had sat two rows behind her the whole year, just staring at that hair.

He leaned toward her. Her eyes, her face, her whole body was soft and warm. His intention was just to give her a hug, but suddenly his face stopped inches from hers. A deep longing rose inside him. He had wanted her for so long, so, so long…

Her eyes were expectant. Waiting….hoping? She leaned up, just a fraction. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She touched her forehead to his…

His heart was pounding frantically in his chest, like a caged bird desperately wanting to fly. She closed her eyes and leaned closer to him. The moment he had dreamed of for years was finally here. Closer. He and Lila, together at last. Things had never felt so right….

And suddenly, in the next instant, for reasons he could not explain, things had never felt so wrong. Arnold quickly turned to the right, letting Lila's lips fall upon his cheek. She pulled back slowly and looked at him, confused…

"Arnold!" The two of them jumped apart as Phoebe ran toward them. "Have you seen Helga? I attempted to find her after my conversation with Gerald was finished, but ten minutes of searching has come up with null."

So Gerald _had_ talked to Phoebe after all. "I'll help you look for her," Arnold volunteered quickly, jumping off the parapet. "Lila…" he hesitated, looking back at her. At the moment, he wanted to be as far away from her and their awkward situation as possible, but he didn't want to be rude…

"I'm ever so certain I should go find Justin anyway," she said, carefully climbing off the cement wall and brushing dirt off her jeans. "He's probably wondering what happened to me."

Arnold nodded, grateful for Phoebe's distraction as she led him back to the lighted portion of the roof. He didn't know why he had acted the way he did. Why did he turn away from the kiss he had wanted for so long? Was it guilt, because she had a boyfriend? No, there was some other reason. But he didn't want to think about it right now.

Arnold didn't think that he had been away from the party for that long, but when he saw that the roof was much less crowded then when he had left, he realized that he must've been gone at least a half hour. Many guests had already gone home. The band was still going strong, marching in a figure eight formation around the roof. The area was sparse enough that a careful glance confirmed that Helga was nowhere to be found. "Maybe she left already," he suggested.

Phoebe frowned. "Maybe, but I'm fairly certain that she wouldn't leave without me. My father was going to come pick us up at ten. Her house is all the way across town, so it's highly unlikely that she decided to walk home, especially without telling me first." She hesitated, and then walked over to the door leading downstairs. "Perhaps she went downstairs for something…"

Arnold shrugged and pulled open the door. "Couldn't hurt to look."

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"What do you _mean_, I'm not going anywhere?' Helga narrowed her eyes at the guy standing in front of her.

He didn't answer, but continued standing with his arms crossed, lips curled into a menacing smile. He was at least half a foot taller than her and at least fifty pounds heavier, but that didn't faze her. "Shove off, Mr. Smooth," she snapped, using both hands to heave him to the side. The smile disappeared from his face as he stumbled, trying to regain his balance. The speed and strength of the five foot five, one hundred and twenty pound girl had surprised him.

She smirked at him and took a few stomps toward the door, only getting a few feet before a hand grabbed her shoulder and roughly spun her around. Helga had no time to react as his fist slammed hard into her nose. She managed to jerk out of his grasp, gasping in shock as she held her nose, which was now gushing blood. Her annoyance escalated into pure rage. No one touched Helga G. Pataki like that and lived. She ducked out of the way as his fist came at her again. Who did this guy think he was? He tried to grab her by the wrist, but she dodged his attack again and used the opportunity to stomp hard on his foot. He was wearing flimsy cloth sneakers, she leather hiking boots, so she knew her attack would hurt.

"Son of a…" The guy sucked in a breath and bit his lip. Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, she swung her fist toward his face. He caught her fist in midair and twisted her arm around. She was just barely able to stifle a scream of pain. He slapped her open-handed across her cheek. She fell backwards, and would've fallen all the way to the ground had he not been holding onto her right arm. He caught her left arm as well, and twisted them both around so her back was to his face. She took in a breath and kicked her right foot backwards as hard as she could. With satisfaction she felt her boot connect with soft flesh. The guy let out an audible moan of pain as he released her arms. Helga spun around in time to see him stumble backwards, both arms clutching his stomach. In half a second he recovered and reached toward her with both hands. She tried to dodge, but wasn't quite fast enough. His hands grabbed her neck and squeezed. Wildly she swung her fists, but to no avail. Tiny gagging noises came out of her mouth as she desperately tried in vain to take in air. She shook her head back and forth, trying to squirm away, but he was too strong. He shoved his nose up to hers. "Now…bitch…you're not so high and mighty, are you? So bold…such a fighter…stupid butch. Someone needs to teach you how to be a real woman."

She began to feel weak, and not just from lack of air. Criminy! She understood his intentions now. Why hadn't she realized them earlier…maybe she would've been able to get away. Helga felt her knees give way. The guy let her fall, his hands still on her neck as he slowly guided her to the ground. She clawed at his hands, trying to release them from her throat. But she was too weak, and her arms had grown numb. Slowly she closed her eyes, succumbing to her inevitable fate….

Suddenly his fingers let go of her neck. She opened her mouth and took in big gulps of air, precious air. Her eyes opened to see him kneeling above her, with that creepy smile. He jabbed his finger toward the other side of the room. "Get on the couch."

She sprang up and ran, hoping as she neared the door that the element of pure surprise would give her enough time to get away…Her fingers were on the doorknob when suddenly she felt his hands grab her ribs from behind. He picked her up as if she were a paper doll and threw her onto the couch. She tried to scream, but all that came out of her swollen throat were high pitched gargles. In a last ditch attempt to try to defer him, she kicked up her legs as hard as she could. He dodged her attack easily and sprang on top of her. She winced as his whole weight came down on her already aching body. He dug his knees into her ribs and, using his hands, pinned both of her arms against the red couch. "Stupid bitch," his raspy voice gasped, fatigued from the fight. "I'll fix you up good." As if to prove his point, he punched her across the mouth, sending a stream of blood cascading down her chin.

She was exhausted. Her body was heaving, and she ached all over. Her throat was so swollen that she could barely breathe. And throughout her body surged an emotion little known to her.

Pure fear.

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Arnold flicked on the light to his grandparent's bedroom. "Helga?" He peered around the room. No one in here. He shrugged and walked back out in the hallway to a worried looking Phoebe.

"I checked the bathroom and every other room that wasn't locked, but Helga's nowhere to be found," she said.

Arnold frowned. "But where else could she be?'

"Well, maybe she went up to your room," Phoebe suggested.

"But why would she go there?"

Phoebe hesitated, knowing full well why. "I just have a feeling…'

Arnold shrugged. "Okay. Let's go look."

Phoebe nodded, and they made their way down the hall. As they neared his room, Phoebe's hypothesis seemed to be right. He could hear voices coming from the other side of his door. He started to make his way up the stairs. The voices got clearer as they approached the door. "Bitch," the voice was saying. "Dumb bitch. This'll teach you who's boss."

Phoebe and Arnold looked at each other, wide eyed, and bolted up the stairs. Arnold threw open the door to his room.

A guy with curly black hair was kneeling on his couch. Below him was Helga, her face covered in blood. Her pink vest lay next to the couch, and the guy was trying to pull off her white t-shirt. The guy jerked his head up at the sound of the door opening. Quickly he leaped off the couch.

Phoebe rushed over to Helga, who was moaning in pain. She gasped at the state her best friend was in. Blood was trickling from her nose and lip, and she was wheezing, as if breathing were very difficult for her. Phoebe gently touched the red marks on Helga's neck. She fought tears. "Her neck…"

"What did you do to her?" Arnold demanded, though it was a fruitless question because he already knew the answer. "Call the police," he barked at Phoebe, surprised at the force and anger in his voice. She immediately whipped her cell phone out of her pocket and began dialing.

The guy threw up his hands. "Hey, man, it's cool, it's cool. We were just..."

Arnold took a step toward him. Pure rage was rising inside him, an emotion virtually unknown to him.

The guy stepped backwards. "Chill out, okay? There's nothing…"

As a rule, Arnold didn't believe in using physical violence for any reason. But there were some times that even he caved in. He balled up his fist and used every bit of force he had to sock the guy in the face.

The guy blinked, looking at him and holding his cheek in surprise. Then, he turned and sprinted down the stairs like the coward he was.

Phoebe's voice broke through his wall of rage. "I know who that guy was. He was one of those seniors that Mandy and Christina invited. His name's Alex. The police can probably find him easily…"

His wall of rage shattered. He walked over to his couch and tenderly picked up the pink jacket. With trembling fingers, he handed it to Helga. She used it to wipe the blood off her face. The red, sticky substance had gotten all over her clothes, as well as his couch. The blood blended right in with the red fabric…

"Are you okay?" he asked her, dazed. Only a few seconds later did he realize what a stupid question that was.

Her clear blue eyes stared up at him. "Happy birthday, Football Head," she said, and then burst into tears.

He caught her as she fell into his arms. He was just barely able to hold back his own tears.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Wow, this chapter ended up being really long! I think I have an idea about how I want this whole thing to end, but I'm open to any and all suggestions. Unfortunately, my goal of this whole fic being finished by Christmas probably won't be a reality. But I'll try to have chapter five up ASAP.

Personal Inscriptions:

Dark Lady of the Sith: Thanks! I _wish_ men like Alex could be locked away forever….

apie: Yes, Chapter Three was terribly sad….

Hellerick Ferlibay: Things are really looking down right now…don't worry, happier times are ahead! And no, Monster is not forgotten. As for Lila/Helga interaction…hm….you actually gave me an idea for that, which I may or may not use. We'll see. Thanks, though!

acosta perez jose romiro: Right on about Lila, that's exactly what I was going for. And yes, I think Arnold did remember a bit of karate, which is why he delivered such a smooth punch to Alex's face.

xo Just Another Suicide xo: Yeah, Helga kicks butt! No way was she going to let Alex try to rape her without a fight!

maggie-mags: Thank you!

LateOrliBloomer: Wow….thanks for the long review! I'm sorry ffn kept kicking you off….Yeah, maybe Lila's story is a little too sob storyish. A dead mother and a cocaine addicted father? Geez! But it makes her seem more real, I think. Gerald's behavior is weird, I agree, but there's a reason he's afraid to talk to Phoebe, which will be explained later. And….geez, did I make Arnold's reason for turning away from Lila's kiss _that_ obvious? Well, actually, there's a bit more behind the reason than you might think. Or not. Maybe everyone has it figure out already. Yeah, Lila is naughty for almost cheating on her bf, but….she's not perfect! The title of the story comes in here once again, and it's really the resounding theme. Yeah, Alex's crime might be hard to believe, but it does happen.

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter Four

Arnold slowly traced a circle design with his finger on the arm on the plastic chair. "And…then the guy ran away," he concluded his story, looking up at the uniformed policewoman.

She nodded, scribbling on her notepad. "And you're sure," she turned to Phoebe, "that this was the same man your friend introduced you to earlier? Alex Builtoo?"

Phoebe nodded. "Positive. The black curly hair was trademark. I recognized him immediately."

Arnold stretched his arms and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, and he was exhausted. He, Phoebe, her parents, and his grandparents had been at the police station for over an hour.

Pookie reached over to pat her grandson's shoulder. "Why, Slim, I'd say you look mighty tired."

Phil crossed his arms as he looked at the policewoman. "So, how much longer are you going to keep us here? Some of us older folks should've been in bed hours ago."

For the first time, a smile crossed Officer Pat's face. She clicked her pen and stood up. "I have all the information I need, so you're free to go. We have eyewitness reports now, so we can start filing a charge with the District Attorney. Alex should be put under arrest sometime tonight, assuming he hasn't taken off somewhere."

Arnold sighed with relief. He would be so glad when this whole night was over with. He shuddered to think what might've happened if he and Phoebe hadn't come along in time.

"Thank you for your help." Officer Pat shook each one of their hands in turn as they filed out of her tiny office. "It's incidents like these they remind me why I chose a career in law enforcement."

"That boy." Mrs. Heyerdahl gave a small sigh as they walked out to the parking lot. "I can't imagine why he would do somethin' like that…"

Arnold swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He thought of Helga, his friend, who had been taken away from his boarding house in an ambulance. It was all his fault. After all, it was his party. He should've been more selective with the guests…he should've paid more attention to everyone, especially Helga. If someone had been with her, if someone had gone to his room with her, this never would've happened…

It wouldn't occur to him, until after all future events had taken place, to speculate why she had gone to his room in the first place.

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"Good news." The doctor took a seat in the swivel chair next to Helga's hospital bed. "We had a technician look at the x-rays, and your nose isn't broken."

"Great," she whispered-it was still hard to talk-"one less splinter in the pile of wood." She rolled her eyes. She had been in the stupid hospital, getting x-rays done, getting examined, getting tests run, for the past three hours. The worst part so far had been the stitches in her lip. The stitches themselves weren't that bad, but beforehand the doctor had had to inject a vial of Novocain into her split lip, which hurt like all Criminy's angels. For about the hundredth time that night, she cursed Alex. Tie him up, give her a stick, and she'd have some fun. "Can I go home now?"

The doctor frowned. "I'm concerned about that breathing. I wrote you a prescription for an oral steroid to help keep your airway open until your throat heals. You need to take it every day for the next month, _and don't forget._ The last thing we want is for your airway to swell shut."

"Could that happen?" Miriam, who had been sitting next to Helga's bed along with Bob, suddenly stood up. "What if, I mean, what do we do if that happens?"

"This drug should prevent it from happening. But if she experiences extreme difficulty breathing, bring her in right away. Otherwise, she can go home now. Just take it easy, young lady, all right?"

"I suppose this is going to cost me a bundle." Big Bob groaned. "If I ever get my hands on that kid…" Then, his expression softened. He looked at his daughter lying on the hospital bed and asked gently, "You sure you're feeling well enough to go home….Helga?"

"I'm fine, dad, really." Helga stood up. She was still woozy and very sore, even though they had given her something for pain.

The car ride home and getting into bed was a blur. She felt distanced from everything else. Her sleep was restless and punctuated by nightmares of a tall man with curly black hair trying to rape her. Sometime during the night, Monster came out from under her bed and climbed up next to her. He curled next to the sleeping teenager, trying to provide her with some comfort. She awakened shortly after one a.m. with a churning stomach, and reached the bathroom just in time to spill the contents of any food she'd eaten at Arnold's party. Whether it was her injuries, or her nightmares, or the sheer trauma of what she'd been through, she didn't know, but for some reason her stomach continued to rebel throughout the night. The fourth time, she was rinsing out her mouth at the sink when a knock came at the bathroom door. Miriam was standing in the hallway, looking concerned.

"Dear, are you sick?"

Helga sighed. She was too weak and sick to fire off a sharp retort. "Yeah, mom."

Miriam reached over and gently stroked her daughter's back. "Oh, honey….you know what might help? I could make you some tea with honey. That always settles my stomach."

Helga forced a weak smile. "Yeah, okay…thanks."

Monster curiously poked his head out of Helga's room and watched as the Pataki mother and daughter headed downstairs. He slithered out the doorway and followed them to the kitchen. Helga reached over and scratched his chin. Miriam flicked on the light, and the dark kitchen was suddenly visible. With a small groan, Helga collapsed into a kitchen chair. She still ached so much that even a trip down the stairs took a lot of her.

"Let's see…nutmeg, cinnamon…where did I put that honey? Oh, darn. Well, I'm sure I bought it…" Miriam shook her head. "Is sugar all right instead, dear?"

"Fine." Helga wasn't sure she'd even be able to stomach it. But her mom was being so kind to her, so….motherly, that Helga thought it best to just sit back and let Miriam take care of her. What a strange picture, she thought. Miriam making tea for her at 3 a.m. She was even doing it the old-fashioned way, putting tea leaves into a kettle with water and letting it boil on the stove. It was something that, until a couple of years ago, would never have happened.

"There you go," Miriam smiled at her youngest daughter as she placed two large ceramic mugs on the table. Helga flashed a small smile of thank you. Miriam winced upon looking at her daughter's swollen and bruised face.

"I didn't even know that you knew how to make tea the old-fashioned way," Helga said. Miriam could still hear the way she drew in a breath before every syllable. Was Helga still having trouble breathing? God above, what would she do if her daughter's airway closed? How could any boy be so cruel as to attack her daughter the way he did?

"Well," Miriam smiled, trying to keep her mind off her fears. "My mother and I used to run a tea house together, so I have a lot of experience with this."

Helga looked confused. "A tea house?"

"Yeah, you know, like a coffee house, only we mainly served tea. We thought our original idea would attract more customers." Miriam shrugged. "I had just graduated from high school when Mama had this idea to start a business. We knew a lot of people from around the area drank morning tea instead of coffee, so we thought our idea would sell."

"Wow! I didn't know that!"

Miriam smiled. She and her daughter were getting to know more and more about each other every day, which she liked. She had never been as close to Helga as her older daughter, but she was hoping one day that would change.

Helga placed her mug to her lips and took a small sip. "So, tell me more about this tea house, Mom."

The two blonde heads bent in a conversation late into the hours of the morning. Monster curled up between mother and daughter, and fell asleep to the murmur of their voices. A rare bonding moment enfolded between them, and Helga wasn't sick once afterwards.

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"Hey, man." Gerald greeted Arnold on Monday morning. He noticed the dark circles under his friend's eyes. "Rough weekend?"

Arnold shrugged. "I didn't do much but sleep."

Gerald chuckled as they made their way to his locker. "Sure doesn't look like it." His expression softened. "You still trippin' over what happened Friday night?" Arnold had explained the entire incident via phone to Gerald on Saturday. He was the only outside party that actually knew what happened. Grandpa had shooed all of the remaining party guests home shortly before the ambulance arrived for Helga. As far as Arnold knew, no one else knew a thing.

He was soon proved wrong.

"Hey Arnold!" Iggy approached Gerald's locker. "What happened at your party Friday? There's a big rumor going around that Alex Builtoo is in jail for beating up Helga Pataki at your party."

Arnold winced. Apparently he had underestimated the power of the high school gossip mill. "Uh, yeah….sort of. I really don't think I should talk about it." He had learned from experience that when it came to rumors, the best thing to do was just keep his mouth shut. Especially in this situation, out of respect for Helga.

"Arnold!" A high pitched voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Mandy and Christina. "Why is your friend Helga saying all these mean things about Alex? There's a charge against him for, like, trying to rape her or something. As if!"

Arnold sighed. "She's not lying. I really don't want to talk about it, Mandy."

She frowned at him. "I'm Christina!"

He rubbed his forehead. This was giving him a headache. "Sorry."

"Come on, man, let's go." Gerald took his elbow and guided him through the small crowd that had now formed around his locker. "See you ladies later."

"Man, Gerald, how do you think people found out about this?" Arnold sighed.

"Who knows? Things spread fast around here. Don't worry, though. I'm sure it will all blow over, eventually."

Arnold slowly nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I just hope Helga doesn't get harassed like this."

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Helga stared at her reflection in the heart shaped mirror in her locker. The bruises on her face and throat were barely visible. Her mom had done a pretty good job this morning with the concealer. Helga wouldn't have had a clue how to do it herself-she rarely wore makeup. The only thing that couldn't be covered was the stitches in her lip, but she could always tell people she'd fallen down or something. No way would she admit to people that some jerk had beaten her up.

With a smile, she recounted the weekend in her head. Despite the pain she'd been in, the past few days actually hadn't been bad at all. Her parents had been unusually nice to her. Big Bob had even let her have free reign of the TV. And her mom had barely left her side all weekend, summoning to her daughter's every beck and call. She had even insisted on driving Helga to school this morning, worrying that the bumpy bus ride might not be good for her injuries. It was nice. It probably wouldn't last, but that was all the more reason to enjoy every second.

She grabbed her biology book from the top of her locker. She had her binder, her folder, her pen…she dug around in her pocket for a pencil.

"Criminy…." She rooted through her locker. She had a biology test that was on a scantron, so she needed a pencil. A search through her locker produced no results. True, she probably wouldn't pass the test to begin with, but she didn't exactly want to take a zero for lack of a pencil.

She turned to Selena, a girl with curly red hair who had the locker next to hers. "Hey, Selena, could I borrow a pencil?"

Slam! The locker door closed and Selena walked down the hall, ignoring Helga and her request.

Helga shrugged and closed her locker. PMS? She would never figure out girls. Phoebe was an exception. Most "regular" girls were weird, which was why she preferred the company of guys.

She noticed Rhonda combing her hair at her locker. "Hey, Rhondaloid, got a pencil?" she asked as she approached the designer clad girl.

Rhonda jumped. She quickly shoved her comb into her locker and slammed it shut. "I…uh…" She looked around, then whispered, "Nothing personal, but don't talk to me, okay?"

Helga narrowed her eyes. "What?" But Rhonda had already made a steady retreat down the corridor.

Geez. The two of them were never exactly friends, but Rhonda would usually at least talk to her. Apparently she had decided that Helga was too "uncool" to talk to. Or something.

She looked around and headed over to the water fountain, where Sid was getting a drink. "Yo, Sid," she said, approaching him.

He jerked his head up, splaying water everywhere. "Helga! Boy Howdy…uh…I have to go…" He bolted in the other direction.

Okay, that was weird. What was wrong with everybody today? It was almost like…they were avoiding her. But maybe she was just paranoid. Helga changed directions and walked down the West Hall, where she knew Phoebe's locker was.

Was it her imagination, or did she hear people whispering all around her? And they were staring at her. Well, she did have stitches in her lip. And maybe the makeup didn't do as good of a job covering her bruises as she thought. But since when did the kids at her school start whispering about and avoiding people with stitches?

Luckily, Phoebe was at her locker. Maybe she'd have some idea of what was going on. "Hey, Pheebs…"

"Helga!" Her best friend jumped, sending papers flying everywhere. She quickly recovered and started gathering up the papers. "I mean…um…how are you? Are you feeling better?"

Helga ignored her question. "Okay, something's going on. I know it. What the heck is wrong with everyone? What did I do?"

Phoebe lowered her head. She knew she would have to tell Helga eventually, but it hurt. Her best friend did not deserve this, especially after everything she had been through. She stood up and took Helga's arm gently. "There's…well…I'm not quite sure how to say this, but somehow everyone knows what happened on Friday night. And…well….I've heard them talking. For some strange reason, they're…they're holding you accountable for what happened."

Helga stood, shocked, silent.

Phoebe sighed. "In the social standing perspective, it shouldn't be that strange. Alex Builtoo is a popular, athletic senior with many friends. And…"

"I'm not," Helga said flatly.

"Precisely. They…well, not everyone, but I would say most, are upset at you for accusing Alex of….such a crime. They seem to think you're lying, or that you asked for it."

She flew into a rage. "Asked for it! For Criminy's sake, did I ask for these stitches? That stupid jerk almost strangled me to death! Did I ask for that? Criminy…." She slumped against the wall, putting her head in her hands.

Phoebe knelt next to her. "I know," she said gently, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. "But, remember, this is high school. Most rumors like this subside. Eventually. In the meantime, I can try to set everyone straight if you want. I don't know if they'll believe me, though." She paused, and added softly, "I don't think they'll want to believe me…."

Helga raised her head from her hands. "Thanks for telling me, Pheebs."

The bell caused both of them to jump. They realized that the hallway was empty. Helga quickly stood up. "Sorry, Pheebs. Now you'll be late for class…"

She smiled. "I suppose one detention won't mar my otherwise perfect attendance record." Her face became serious. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

She breathed out. "Yeah." She knew she was strong. She'd be all right. Who cared what the other stupid kids were saying about her? She only cared about the opinions of two people, and they both knew what really happened.

It was harder than she imagined, though. Throughout the day, she was vividly aware that she was being talked about. Over and over, she heard her name whispered-in class, in the hallway, even in the bathroom. Most people refused to talk to her. Even with those that did talk to her, like Sheena and Nadine, it was obvious that they were uncomfortable.

By fifth period, she was exhausted, not only from the social torture, but her face was starting to hurt again. Weren't her pain pills supposed to last twelve hours? Criminy. At least fifth period-lunch-wouldn't wear her out too much. And her mom had actually packed her lunch this morning, so she wouldn't have to stand in line for ten minutes with a growling stomach. Only it wasn't exactly growling today. In fact, she felt quite sick. She felt the burning, accusing eyes of her fellow peers on her back as she made her way across the lunchroom. Phoebe had saved her a seat at a sparsely crowded table. As soon as Helga set her brown paper bag down on the table, the four girls that had been sitting at the table stood up, gathered their things, and left. Three of them avoided looking at her, but one of them glared at Helga and whispered, "Bitch."

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Arnold watched sadly from the lunch line as four girls across the cafeteria stood up and left their table as soon as Helga approached. He could only imagine what kind of treatment she had been receiving all day. He had heard the whispered rumors, and it was obvious that most of his classmates blamed Helga for what had happened. It made him furious, but he kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt anything he said would only add fuel to the fire.

Across the room, he watched as one of the girls turned and said something to Helga. Some kind of insult, probably. He watched as Helga's fists clenched, and he could practically hear the gears in her mind whirring as she contemplated whether she should beat this girl to a pulp, or just let it go. Ultimately, for whatever reason, she decided on the latter and sat down next to Phoebe.

He should go and talk to her, see how she was feeling. Let her know that she wasn't alone. Maybe he should even sit with them today. He didn't particularly want to sit at the "popular" table today, especially with all the things most of them were saying about Helga.

Arnold paid the cashier and headed toward the table. "Hi," he greeted the two girls as he set his tray down on the table.

Helga's eyes widened. Was he going to sit with them today? She took a breath. Be nice, she reminded herself. On top of everything else, he had saved her last Friday. He had also given her attacker a good thump across the face. She smiled a little at the look on Alex's face after he had gotten a taste of his own medicine. "Hi….Arnold," she said.

"Good afternoon, Arnold," Phoebe smiled and scooted her chair over a little so he could sit down.

"I wanted to see if you were feeling any better today," Arnold said to Helga. He hesitated. "I know that your day probably hasn't been the easiest."

Helga stabbed her fork into Miriam's homemade salad. "Oh, what do I care what a bunch of stupid kids say about me? So what if everyone thinks I'm some kind of lying whore?" The spite in her voice was obvious.

Arnold sighed. "It's ridiculous. But, Phoebe and I both know what happened. And Gerald believes you, too. And lots of other kids do, I'm sure. They just don't have the guts to talk to you right now."

"Fear of being shunned from association is probably high right now," Phoebe added. "However, I'm confident that won't last.'

Helga knew that they were probably both right. Still, she wasn't looking forward to the next few days.

"Hey Arnold!" Gerald appeared next to their table. "Man, I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on. Aren't you going to sit with us today?"

Arnold shook his head. "Sorry, Gerald, I think I'm staying here." He smiled. "Why don't you sit with us?"

"You're welcome to, Gerald." Phoebe leaned over, sparkling like the lights on a million Christmas trees.

He shuffled his foot. "I would, but uh…Arnold…there's something we need to talk about with the people over there." He jabbed his thumb toward the direction of the popular table.

Arnold was confused. "Who?"

"All our friends. Mandy and Christina. You know, homecoming plans?"

Arnold heaved a big sigh. "Right. Who am I going with again?"

"You're going with Christina, I'm going with Mandy," Gerald reminded him. "Now, come on!"

"All right, all right." Arnold stood. "Sorry, guys," he apologized to Helga and Phoebe. "I'll catch you later."

"Arnold," Helga muttered as soon as the two boys were out of earshot. "What an airhead. What a buffoon. Taking a stupid, shallow, giggly "popular" girl as his date to the dance."

"I must admit, it surprises me," Phoebe agreed. "I never imagined Arnold and Christina together."

"Uh…Phoebe, could you get me some napkins?"

"Sure, Helga," Phoebe replied. As soon as she was gone, Helga ducked under the table and pulled out her locket.

"Oh, Arnold! Where is the non-conformist soul I have grown to know and love? How could you possibly chose one of_ those_ girls? And yet….how I wish I were one of them. How I wish I were beautiful and polished and always knew the right lines to deliver…so that your affections might be bestowed upon me instead. Alas, now I must face the pain of knowing that you are going to be in _her_ arms that night instead of mine as I have dreamed."

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When Arnold approached the popular table with Gerald, everyone was engrossed in something that Justin was saying.

"Yeah, they arrested Alex Friday night," he said. "He was in for a day before he was eligible for bail. He's out of jail now, but he's not allowed to come back to school until after his trial in three weeks."

Arnold's eyes bulged. Alex would be out of jail for three weeks while he waited for his trial? That was insane! What if he tried to rape other girls?

"Alex told me that his lawyer thinks he can plea bargain for a lesser charge," Justin continued. "That would probably be easier than going through all the shit of a trial. Alex's lawyer doesn't know what the chances are that he would be found "not guilty" if he went through a trial, so he thinks it's best not to risk it." Justin shook his head. "The District Attorney is still thinking of charging Alex with attempted murder because he supposedly almost choked that girl to death. It's a crock."

Arnold could keep silent no longer. "I saw what he did to Helga," Arnold interrupted. "She had bruises all over her neck."

Justin glared at him. "That doesn't mean anything. I saw her today. If she came to school, he couldn't have hurt her that bad. And now she says he tried to rape her? Give me a break!"

"Justin," Lila said quietly, putting her hand on his arm. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"He was taking off her clothes when Phoebe and I found them." Arnold struggled to keep calm. "He was on top of her. What do you think that means, Justin?"

"She asked for it. All the girls want Alex."

Arnold clenched his teeth. "Her face was covered in blood."

Justin smirked. "What can I say? Some people just like it rough."

Arnold closed his eyes, fighting the red hot rage that was building inside of him. Slowly he took in a breath. If one of his good friends was accused of raping a girl, he would probably deny it too. Justin hadn't seen what he had. He didn't know Helga. It would be easy for him to jump to conclusions. Apparently, he thought bitterly, it was easy for everyone else too.

"Justin," Lila pleaded, pulling at his shirtsleeve, "can we please change the subject?"

"Right!" Rhonda exclaimed. "Hooomecoming plans," she sang as she held up a notebook. "We'll all be going in a group together. Now, let me make sure I have all the couples right on my list. Justin, you'll be going with Lila, of course. Gerald and Mandy, Christina and Arnold, Iggy and Katrinka, me and Justin's older brother Mark…"

Arnold took some deep breaths and concentrated on his food, trying to cool off his anger. He noticed as Rhonda read her list, however, that one person seemed to be missing.

"Hey, isn't Nadine coming with us?" he asked.

He heard a few snickers. Mandy stared at him. "_Nadine_?" she said. "Like, you're kidding, right?"

Rhonda looked around, her cheeks burning. "Um…don't be silly, Arnold. Now…"

"But Nadine's your best friend!" Arnold persisted.

Rhonda blew out a sigh. "She _was_ my best friend. But lately we've just sort of…you could say…grown apart."

_You mean, you've decided she's not cool enough for you._ Arnold narrowed his eyes. Why did he put up with this? He should do something. Take a stand. Confront Rhonda's shallowness, and all the other kids who wouldn't talk to Helga now just because they were worried about their reputations being ruined…

But, suddenly, his mind blurred. He was just so tired, so, so tired of it all. He picked at his food listlessly and let the conversations drift over him.

Suddenly, a snippet of the conversation caught his attention. "October fifth will be, like, the best day ever!"

The dance was on October fifth? Why hadn't he realized this earlier? A string of expletives crossed his mind. Angrily he pushed his food aside. He felt sick, and so tired. He dropped his football shaped head down on the cafeteria table and didn't move until the bell rang.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: As a Christmas present to you all, here's chapter five! This chapter is really the turning point in the story. If I wrote it right, you all should be at the edge of your seats! I was originally going to make this chapter much longer, but where I ended it seems like a good place to do so. Besides, I wanted to get a chapter out by today, since I am going to be out of town for the next four days. This means that chapter six probably won't be posted for at least a week. Sorry!

Personal Inscriptions:

LateOrliBloomer: Yeah, I agree. _I_ don't even know what Alex was thinking, and I created him! I guess the glass ceiling had to do with Alex trying to rape Helga on the couch rather than on the bed, which would've been more easily visible. I have, indeed, read the book "Speak". In that book, Andy Evans was kind of an idiot as well. I mean, he raped the girl in the bushes. Anybody could've just walked by and caught him. I guess some rapists aren't too bright. The reason for the change in Helga's mom is explained in this chapter. And October 5th, according to the episode "The Journal" is the date that Arnold's parents left for the last time.

acosta perez jose ramiro: Thanks! And yep, you get what you wanted in this chapter!

xo Just Another Suicide xo: Yeah, everyone blaming Helga, that was some real injustice, there. And yep, the mother/daughter relationship is certainly better.

Dark Lady of the Sith: Yeah, reputation plays a big part, unfortunately.

Hellerick Ferlibay: Yep, this chapter is a whole lot brighter. Arnold's concern about Lila is explained below. Yeah, it would be cool if someone could explain Miriam's whole past…but you're right, that's not really the point of this particular story. And yeah, I pretty much have the rest of the story figured out. Still open to suggestion, though! And….arg….thanks again for pointing out my mistake. Again, I changed it. Oh yeah, and here is the Lila-Helga interaction you asked for. Thanks for the idea!

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter Five

As the week passed, things seemed to get slightly better. The rumors died down a bit, and Helga no longer heard whispers every time she walked through the hall. True, some people were still shunning her, but they were in the minority. A few people actually came up to her and apologized for the way they had treated her.

"Didn't I tell you?" Phoebe said to Helga on Friday morning. "High school is a constantly changing environment. Most people are more concerned now with the Homecoming Dance than anything else."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Helga said as she looked into the mirror in her locker. Her nose was almost completely healed now, and she was getting her stitches out this afternoon. Most of her bruises had faded.

Phoebe shuffled her foot. "Speaking of Homecoming, were you planning on attending?"

Helga's stomach turned. Simply thinking of the dance made her feel sick. "Me? Are you kidding? Blowing all of my money to stand around in the school gym in some frilly dress? Puh-lease." But even to her own ears, her voice sounded shaky. Could Phoebe see beneath her façade? Did she know how Helga had tortured herself every night with images of Arnold and that girl, Christina, going to Homecoming together, dancing together, and...maybe even…..

The image was thrown back in her face again fifteen minutes later, when her biology teacher handed out the second ballots for Homecoming. The five boys and girls with the most votes, the "finalists" were listed. Helga stared at the ten names, growled, crumpled up her paper angrily, walked to the front of the room, and tossed it into the trashcan.

Across the school, Arnold sat in geometry class, gazing glumly at his own paper. On the left side of the paper were the names of five girls. Lila was among them. So were Mandy and Christina. The other two were popular girls who, he was pretty sure, were failing every class. Arnold gave an annoyed sigh. Then he looked at the right side of the paper. His eyes widened. Gerald was on the ballot, which he expected. So was Justin. But the last thing he expected was to see his own name at the bottom of the ballot. At least, he thought it was his own name. He frowned. They hadn't put his last name on the ballot, only his first name and last initial. Arnold S. That was weird. But he was pretty sure it was him. As far as he knew, he was the only Arnold S. in the freshman class.

What a selection. Justin and Lila as Homecoming King and Queen. Or Mandy and Gerald. Or worse, him and Christina. The thought made him shudder.

Abruptly he got out of his seat, walked to the front of the room, and threw his paper in the wastebasket.

000000000000000

"What do you think?" the doctor asked, pulling out a mirror.

Helga gazed at her reflection, rubbing her lower lip with a smile. There was only a small pink line where her stitches had once been. "Nice job, Doc. Thanks."

The doctor nodded, turning to put the mirror away. "Your nose should be fully healed in a week or so. Keep taking the steroid that they gave you at the hospital. Take it until all the pills are gone. It's very important. Don't ever skip."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't." Helga hopped down from the counter and made her way out into the waiting room of the small medical clinic. The theme song for "Wrestlemania: The Movie" broke the silence of the waiting room, and the receptionist glared at her. Helga smiled sheepishly and took her cell phone, the culprit of the malicious noise, out of her pocket. She slid out of the waiting room and walked into the parking lot, pressing the "send" button to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Oh, honey," said her mother. "There's an accident on Maple Street., and they have just the whole area blocked off. I can't get to the clinic from here. Do you think you could just take a shortcut through Radisson Avenue, and I'll pick you up at the supermarket? Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I know it's a long walk."

"No problem," Helga assured her. It wouldn't be a particularly long walk, maybe three or four blocks, but Radisson Avenue wasn't exactly the nicest part of town. The apartment buildings were small and crammed together. Most were in bad need of a paint job. Trash was strewn about the cracked sidewalk and blew around her legs as she made her way down the street. Helga gave a grunt of disgust as she kicked a rusted metal can out of her path. She paused at a yellow brick apartment, staring up at the slightly open window. Hard to believe that popular, kind, straight A's Lila lived in this very building.

Crash! A noise from inside made her jump slightly. Thud! Bash! Bam-bam-bam! She frowned. _What_ was going on in there? It sounded like a demolition. Lila's father suddenly stumbled into the room of the open window Helga was looking into. He took a shaky step forward, picked up a plate, and threw it against the wall. Helga gasped as she watched the plate hit the wall and shatter. She gasped again upon taking a closer look at Lila's father. He was clad in only a pair of torn jeans, his red hair uncombed and wild, his face dirty and unshaven. But what shocked her most were his eyes. They were wide, bloodshot, and wild.

The front door suddenly banged open. Lila slammed the door behind her and sat down on the stoop, sobbing.

Bewildered, Helga took a few soft steps toward the emotionally disheveled girl. "Lila?..."

"Helga!" Lila jumped, pulling her tearstained face from her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth between the girl standing in front of her, and the open window. Reality began to dawn on her as she realized what Helga must have seen.

"Your dad…" Helga sat down next to Lila. They both startled at another crash from inside the house.

"He….has a problem, doesn't he?" Helga said softly. She may have been slightly naïve, but she wasn't stupid. A man who stumbled around the house half naked throwing things around for no apparent reason was either insane or intoxicated.

There was no point in denying it, Lila thought as she slowly nodded. Thud! She winced.

They sat in silence for a few moments, listening to things being broken inside the house. Helga sighed. So, she thought, little Miss Perfect Lila had a stoner for a father. Hard to believe, but she supposed it could happen to anyone. Most of her earlier life had been affected by her own mother's addiction. She knew the pain Lila was going through.

An idea suddenly came to her. Helga reached into her pocket and found her purple gel pen. In vain she searched her pockets for a piece of paper, then turned to Lila and said, "Give me your hand."

Lila looked surprised, but complied. Helga scrawled seven numbers on the smooth, pale palm. "It's the number of the place Miriam stayed at a couple of years ago. Probably saved her life. It's not for everybody. You have to be really committed. It's a five month long treatment facility. And they're not miracle workers over there. They cure the addiction, not the person. Miriam still isn't exactly Supermom. But," she smiled, thinking of the past two years, and especially the last week, "things are a lot better."

Lila was silent, staring at her palm.

Helga leaned over and put her hand on her shoulder. "Are you going to be, you know, safe? Do you want to stay at my house for a bit?"

Lila shook her head. "I'll be fine," she assured Helga. "I'm ever so certain that his rampage won't last more than twenty minutes. He'll run out of things to break, then go and fall asleep somewhere, if he hasn't already."

Helga realized that Lila was right-she no longer heard crashes from inside the apartment. Slowly, Helga stood. "Well, I guess I have to go then. Mom's waiting. Um, good luck with everything, Lila."

She was a good distance away before she heard the whispered reply, "Thank you, Helga. Ever so much."

000000000000000000000

"The District Attorney decided not to file attempted murder," was Justin's latest lunch feed. He had been so kind as to give a daily news feed about Alex to all the kids at the "popular" lunch table. Arnold, admittedly, was as curious as everyone else. He was disappointed to find out that Alex wouldn't be charged with the heaviest sentence possible. He kept that to himself, though. Ever since his confrontation with Justin last Friday, he had gone back to his old ways of keeping his mouth shut at lunch (except to eat) and ignoring the conversation of the popular kids.

That wasn't the only thing he was ignoring. He sneaked a look across the table at Lila and was immediately filled with guilt. He had been avoiding her ever since his birthday party. It was just too awkward to try to have a normal conversation with the unresolved incident of the almost-kiss hanging between them. He didn't know why either of them had acted as they did, and he didn't want to think about it. Which, he admitted, was selfish of him. He should at least ask her how she was doing, especially after she had opened up to him. Arnold still worried about her a lot, though she did seem to be looking better lately. She no longer seemed so sad, and her smiles were more abundant.

As Homecoming grew closer, the excitement of the students, especially the freshman class, could be felt like a tidal wave. The conversation on almost everyone's lips was about who was going with who, what kind of music the DJ would play, and oh my god my dress is gorgeous, and I wonder who will be voted King and Queen?

Arnold, when he was perfectly honest with himself, didn't give an inkling about the dance. He would wear the same black suit he wore to every formal occasion, and he really didn't care what music they played or who got the title for King and Queen, as long as it wasn't him. The last thing he wanted was a dance with Christina in front of the whole school. He wondered if it was possible to refuse the title. Of course, Christina would probably kill him if he did such a thing. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd stay in the bathroom during the dance, chatting with other girls and fixing her hair all night.

The Thursday before Homecoming, Justin had the final report on Alex. "His lawyer worked out a plea bargain with the District Attorney," he said. "Alex pleaded guilty to assault, and the judge sentenced him to six weeks in a juvenile detention center. His lawyer said that with good behavior, he could be out in thirty days."

Thirty days, Arnold thought bitterly. He only hoped that Helga hadn't heard the news. No doubt she would be infuriated and, though she wouldn't show it, devastated.

"Thirty days!" Christina wailed. "He shouldn't even, like, be in jail at all!"

Arnold took a swallow of milk. Gerald owed him, big time, for him agreeing to take _this_ girl to a dance. Arnold took out his geography book (he was getting _a lot_ of reading done at lunch these days) and tried to tune out the conversation. But for some reason, their words got through his wall. Maybe it was because they were especially venomous today. Shouldn't Lila be pulling on Justin's sleeve by now, begging him to change the subject?

No. Because the seat next to Justin was empty. Arnold's brow furrowed. Was Lila absent today? He had seen her earlier, in geography class. Maybe she had skipped lunch for some reason. He frowned and hoped she was okay.

Without Lila around to tame the conversation, it seemed as if all hell was going to break loose.

"I want to kill that Helga girl," Mandy said. "Who does she think she is, anyway?"

"It simply doesn't make sense," Rhonda broke in. "All of us met Alex at Arnold's party, right? Did he seem even remotely like a bad guy?"

"No way!" Mandy exclaimed. "Christina and I have known those guys for years. Trust us, they have girls falling all over them. They don't _need_ to rape anyone. That girl was probably just accusing Alex to get attention."

"Totally," Christina agreed. "Because she'd never get any attention otherwise. I mean, how many friends does she have? She is, like, one of the most unpopular girls in school, if not _the_ most."

Arnold's fists clenched.

"Probably because of the way she looks," Rhonda added. "I mean, have you seen the way she dresses? Old t-shirts, and those tacky button-up vests that went out of style, like, five years ago. Oh, yes, and those _jeans_. She can barely button them up around the middle. Heeelllllooo, Jenny Craig, anyone?"

Most of the table exploded into laughter. Gerald didn't laugh. He was doing algebra homework, pretending not to listen to the conversation. At one point, he looked up at Arnold with a guilty expression and shrugged helplessly.

Arnold glared at him. Gerald had prestige in the popular group. Wasn't he going to say anything on Helga's behalf?

Gerald ducked his head down. Apparently not.

"Oh, yeah," Mandy said. "She makes her reflection cry. Too bad she doesn't wear makeup; she could use it."

Justin frowned at her. "Are you sure about that? I don't think all the Maybelline in the world could fix _that_ ugly mug."

More laughter.

"Well, maybe she could improve her reputation if she wasn't so bitchy," declared Rhonda. "It's like that girl has constant PMS! She's always yelling at everyone and stomping around. She punches people in the face for _looking_ at her the wrong way. I swear, she's like a guy or something."

Mandy gasped. "You think she's a dyke?"

"Wouldn't be surprised," said Christina. "It would be, like, the perfect explanation for why she's whining so much about Alex trying to rape her. A guy tried to hit on her, and she freaked out."

"You wanna know something?" Justin said, so quietly that they all had to lean forward to hear him. "I don't give a shit about whether or not Alex tried to rape her. That whining, fat, ugly, dykey bitch _deserves_ to be raped."

Arnold had learned about aneurysms in health class. It was when a vessel in your brain exploded. If you had one, you died instantly. Millions of lives were altered in a single second.

That's what was happening to him now. An explosion, somewhere deep inside his brain. A breaking point. Only he didn't die, because he wasn't having an aneurysm.

Arnold snapped his book shut.

All around him, the people at the table were still laughing.

He stood up and grabbed his half empty milk carton. He walked around to the other side of the table where Justin was sitting. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. There was nothing now but the explosion. The red hot blood exploding from his brain and leaking into his veins. Pulsating through his body, into his heart and lungs.

Justin turned around to look at Arnold. He was still grinning.

Arnold threw his milk carton at Justin.

The world stopped. Justin just barely had enough time to close his eyes before the warm white substance doused him. Everyone at the table, as well as nearby tables, gawked and gasped.

Justin opened his eyes. He was dripping with milk. His face, his carefully styled hair, and his designer clothes were bathed in it. His eyes were wide, his mouth formed into a small o.

Then, time sped up. Justin opened his mouth. He threw up his arms. "Hey, man, what the hell…" His expression was one of anger. He had no idea what he was up against.

"I can't believe you." Arnold's voice was very quiet, almost a whisper. It was low and very deliberate, cold and sharp at the same time, like a knife cutting through a block of ice. It made nearly everyone who was watching the scene shiver.

"How can you just sit there and say such horrible things about a girl you barely know? What makes any of you think that you have the right to judge her? Because you're more 'popular'?" Arnold's voice grew in loudness. Every eye in the cafeteria was on him now.

"You know, I've tried to get along with all of you. I tried to look the other way when you insulted other people. I tried to find the best in all of you. But this," he waved his arms up dramatically, "all this…this crosses the line! You," he said, pointing at Rhonda, "ditched your best friend of eleven years just because she wasn't "cool" enough for you."

A few people in the cafeteria turned to look at Nadine, who nodded sadly in confirmation to what Arnold was saying.

"And then, you think that just because a guy is cool, and rich, and popular, that he shouldn't be punished for a crime. Alex will be out of jail in _six weeks_. What if he tries to rape another girl when he gets out? What if it's one of you?" he pointed to Mandy and Christina. "Maybe you don't know this, but pretty, popular girls can get raped too. What if a guy tried to rape _you_? What if you decided to bring justice by pressing charges? You know what your reward would be for being so brave? You'd be _shunned_ by everyone in school who takes the _attacker's_ side. Can you imagine how that must feel? Do you have any idea what Helga has been through? First, some jerk nearly rapes her. Then, almost everyone is school decides it's her fault, and subjects her to social torture!"

He paused. "And now…now, I have to sit here and listen to all of you verbally bash the life out of a girl who didn't do anything wrong! Just because she's not one of _you_, you automatically assume she's non-human. Do _any_ of you know the first thing about Helga Pataki? I may not be her best friend…I may not know everything about her…but I do know that everything you are saying about her _is not true_! If you even got to know her a little, you would know how intelligent, funny, and creative she is. She's not perfect, but no one is, and especially not you guys! Helga does not deserve any of the shit she's been through! She's a great person and I…I…" he stopped, out of breath, fumbling for the right words. How could he convince these kids that they were completely wrong about Helga?

"I'm taking her to Homecoming!" he finished, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

Across the cafeteria, two blue eyes widened in surprise. Helga was sure she must have gone deaf. But no-the gasps and excited whispers around her confirmed what Arnold had just said.

In one swift motion, Arnold turned, walked, pushed open the door, and exited the cafeteria. The slam of the door behind him echoed throughout the silent lunchroom.

Finally, a sound broke the noise. A small Japanese girl on the far left side of the cafeteria had begun to clap her hands. Other people joined, in then more, then more. The popular kids slunk down in their seats.

The cafeteria exploded. Nearly everyone was on their feet, clapping. Screams and whistles filled the air. Someone shouted the name of the courageous boy, and it became a chant.

"Ar-nold! Ar-nold! Ar-nold! Ar-nold!"

Cheering loudest of all was a tall, lanky girl with a pink ribbon tied at the end of her braid.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: No, I'm not dead! Nor have I given up on this story, no, certainly not! This story is my baby! But college life kinda keeps you busy, and I kept this chapter for awhile because I wanted to get the dialogue just right. Another update will come…not soon. Sorry! Hopefully in a month or so. I'm hoping I'll have time to write over Spring Break.

Personal Inscriptions:

mxnhpfreak: Yeah, I think the experience might have changed her slightly. Plus, Helga has always had a soft spot for Lila, I think. True, she's tried to sabotage the Arnold-Lila relationship many times, but other than that, she was never too mean to "Little Miss Perfect" and even admitted to liking her.

Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro: You're so right about Helga and Lila! And…yeah, don't mess with Arnold's friends, lol.

A Sapphire Rose: I love your pn. Thanks!

desired-hanyou-aly: Yeah, some of them are real insert bad name here. Not nice at all!

xo Just Another Suicide xo: Thanks! I did, indeed, have a very good holiday! That was soo long ago, though….

Dark Lady of the Sith: Yep, I'm very happy with the speech, as well!

Hellerick Ferlibay: I was worried about that scene…basically, I didn't want to draw it out too much. Helga is smart, and she's seen her own mother intoxicated. Maybe she didn't know the exact circumstances, but she could guess what was going on. At least, in my opinion. And…can't I ever please you? First, you say it's too dark, now, it's too bright! Hehe. Arnold-Helga still aren't "popular" per se, but a lot of the kids are starting to realize the deeper meaning of coolness and power within the structure of the high school. A little too perfect, right? Don't worry, the title prevails!

Hurricos: Hiii! What's up girl? Hmm…what's wrong with Alex, he's all bruised and beaten….

Zappanale: Me? Abandon this story? Never! Lol. Thanks for reviewing.

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter Six

"Arnold!" A shout from behind him made Arnold stop in his tracks and turn around. Gerald was running toward him.

"Arnold!" His brown eyes were wide. "Man, I can't believe you did that!"

The red hot rage was still surging through his body. He was a fire, burning and consuming anything that crossed his path. "You know what _I_ can't believe, Gerald? I can't believe all the days that I've sat at that table and listened to everything they were saying about Helga. I can't believe that I barely said a word in her defense until now."

"You have to calm down, Arnold," pleaded Gerald. "Don't you think you're a little out of control? I mean, throwing milk on Justin? That was crazy!"

"Maybe it was," Arnold replied slowly. "Maybe _I'm_ crazy. Maybe I don't understand what's "cool" the way you do." His voice was full of venom. Gerald took a step backwards.

"Come on, man…I…I didn't mean it that way. You are cool, and, I mean, yeah. Those guys did deserve what they got, I mean, they were being jerks. But they usually aren't that bad. You know that. You've seen them."

Arnold shook his head violently. "I'm through, Gerald. I'm not sitting at that table anymore, I'm not hanging out with those kids again, and I'm _not_ going to the dance with Christina."

Gerald's face fell. "But…"

"How can you be like this, Gerald? I know you're not this shallow. I know that you care about more than clothes and rock bands. Those kids aren't your friends, and you know it. You're just hanging around them because they're cool."

Gerald lowered his head.

"What's happened to you lately? You used to be friends with everyone. We all used to have fun together. Remember Gerald Field? Everybody used to play there, and it didn't matter how cool they were."

"Things change," his best friend replied softly. "We were only kids then."

"Yeah, well," Arnold crossed his arms. "I didn't know that growing up meant you had to abandon old friends."

"I didn't abandon anybody. I just…"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you hanging out with this type of crowd? Why do you date girls who only use you to raise their social status? Everything I'm saying is true, and you know it. Come on, Gerald. This isn't you. The Gerald I know is strong, and stands up for what he believes him. _That's_ what makes him cool, not the clothes he has or the girls he dates. The Gerald I know is a leader. But now you've become just a sheep, a clone, a _follower._ You know what really happened with Alex, but you never spoke up about it. How could you stand it? How could you just sit there and let those kids say horrible things about the best friend of the _girl you've loved for the past five years_?"

Gerald froze, and stared at him. His expression was one of pure disbelief and shock.

Arnold sighed, and for the first time, his voice grew soft. "Did you really think I didn't know?"

Gerald opened his mouth, but was unable to utter a sound.

A long silence followed. Finally Arnold said, "I'm done. I'm leaving that life behind. You…do whatever you want, but I'm not hanging around with them anymore." Slowly he turned and began walking away.

A soft voice, almost a whisper, came from behind him. "She's too good for me."

"What?" Arnold turned.

"Phoebe." Gerald pressed himself against the wall, and slunk all the way down to a sitting position. "She's too good for me."

Arnold walked over to his best friend. "What are you talking about? You're just as good as she is."

"No, I'm not." The curly stack of hair shook in disagreement. "Everything you said about me is true, man. I'm shallow, I'm a follower, and…I'm weak."

Arnold sat down next to Gerald. "Gerald…"

He held up a hand to stop him. "No, it's true. I should've stood up to those guys, but I didn't. I never said a word. I just went along because I wanted them to like me. How stupid is that? Everyone thinks that I'm so great; I'm so cool. I'm a snazzy dresser and I have great hair and I'm a smooth talker with the ladies. I'm outgoing and always know what to say. That's what everyone thinks of me, but they don't see the truth. They don't see me for what I really am- a coward."

"That's not true," Arnold insisted. "Maybe you have made mistakes in the past few years. And maybe you didn't speak up when you should have. But that doesn't mean you're a coward."

"Don't you get it, man?" Gerald looked up at him. "Everything that I have, everything that I'm about-clothes, money, popularity-Phoebe doesn't care about any of that stuff. She's the class valedictorian. She's got _brains_, man. She speaks four different languages, plays the French horn, and takes fencing lessons from her dad. In a few years, she'll have every college in the _nation_ begging her to attend their school. She's kind and polite and….what could _I_ possibly have to offer _her_?"

Arnold gently put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Gerald, listen to yourself. We both know that you care about so much more than clothes and money. Yeah, you are a snazzy dresser, and you do have great hair…." Gerald cracked a small smile at this, "but you're also kind, and creative, and have a great sense of humor. You're fun to talk to, and…you're pretty smart yourself, you know. Who was it that got a perfect score on last week's history test?"

Gerald slowly nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You can't let your fears hold you back. Maybe Phoebe is attracted to you, and maybe she isn't-and believe me, I'm fairly sure she is-but you'll never know unless you try. Don't put yourself down so much for the mistakes you've made, or you'll always be held back. Sometimes, we all go astray. We all make mistakes. No one's perfect."

Gerald smiled. "There you go again, Arnold. Always so positive, always looking on the bright side, because…"

"Somebody has to," they said together, and laughed.

"Thanks, man," Gerald said.

Arnold smiled. "No problem." They sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering, listening to the drone of chatter from inside the cafeteria. Finally Arnold spoke.

"So…um, are you still going to hang out with them?"

"Are you kidding?" Gerald shook his head. "No way, man. That scene was getting old anyway. I just hope Mandy and Christina don't hurt me when I tell them that they've lost their Homecoming dates."

Arnold cringed at the thought. Gerald put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll be the one to deliver the news. Don't worry about a thing. I got us into this mess, I'll get us out."

Arnold relaxed a little. Then, something clicked on in his brain. "Speaking of messes…I think I have a big one I need to resolve. I have to do something that I've put off for way too long. Have you seen Lila? She wasn't in lunch today, but I saw her in geography…"

"She might've skipped lunch to avoid the drama," Gerald suggested. "Justin told me that they broke up today."

Arnold's eyes widened. "Oh, wow. I hope she's okay." An idea suddenly came to him. "I think I have an idea of where she might be." He stood. "I have to go."

Gerald nodded. "I'm gonna go back to lunch and see if I can find Sid, Stinky, and Harold. Man, I haven't seen them in forever. I miss those guys!" He held out his hand, and they wiggled their thumb in a farewell.

Arnold took off down the East Hall, keeping an eye out for the hall monitor. Though he wasn't positive, he had a strong hunch of where Lila might be. Sure enough, he found her sitting outside the orchestra room, eating her lunch out of a green and white striped lunch bag while listening to the rehearsal. She was so absorbed in the music that she didn't notice Arnold until he sat down beside her. "Oh!" She startled. "Um…hello, Arnold. What ever are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he explained. "You weren't in lunch today. I remembered how much you said you liked classical music, and that you came to all of the school's orchestra concerts, so I figured I might find you here."

Slowly, she nodded. "You do know me ever so well."

Silence elapsed between them, punctuated by the sounds of multiple string instruments from inside the orchestra room. They looked at each other, knowing what they each had to say, but not wanting to speak the truth. Finally, Arnold could stand it no longer. He took a deep breath. "Lila…"

"Arnold…" she said at the same time.

"I'm sorry," they said together. Arnold looked at her, puzzled. "Why are _you_ sorry? I'm the one that's been avoiding you for the past three weeks."

"But you only avoided me because _I_ made things awkward between us. I was the one who complicated everything by…trying to kiss you," she winced slightly at her own words. "Afterwards, I felt just ever so guilty. Not only had I almost cheated on my boyfriend, but I tempted you to do something that was morally wrong. I also probably led you to falsely believe that my feelings for you had changed after all these years."

"They haven't?" Arnold felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. "You mean, you still only like me? You don't like me like me?"

She sighed. "Well, to be just perfectly honest, no."

"Then why…?"

"Well, I suppose it was because….you were there for me, Arnold. You listened to me when no one else would, not even Justin. And I was feeling ever so sad…I suppose I just wanted some comfort. To be just perfectly honest, I wanted to feel loved. I was probably also aware at that point, in the back of my mind, that my relationship with Justin wasn't all that good. And in the past few weeks, it's just gotten worse. Which is why I dumped him."

Arnold's eyes widened, surprised to hear that it was Lila who had dumped Justin, and not the other way around. He was glad, though, that it had happened. Justin didn't deserve someone like Lila.

She looked up at him. "I was rather surprised that you turned away, to be perfectly honest. I know that you have good morals, but…you _have_ liked me for five years. To most people, the temptation would be irresistible."

Slowly, he nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about that, and I started to realize something. It wasn't only Justin. Kissing you wouldn't feel _right._ It just, when I think about it, seems wrong and uncomfortable. I guess what I'm trying to say is…I don't like you. At least, not that way. Not anymore. I don't know for how long. I guess I got so used to my crush on you that I didn't realize when my feelings had disappeared. And I thought…that maybe, right when you were finally starting to like me, I didn't like you anymore. I guess that's the main reason why I've been avoiding you. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Lila smiled. "Oh, not at all, Arnold. I know how it is when you no longer feel the same way about someone as you did before. When I listened to Justin say those mean things about people every day at lunch, my feelings disappeared for him quickly."

"Yeah…I know what you mean." Arnold smiled slightly. Now that the whole incident had passed, it was almost comical. He thought of the look on Justin's face when he had dumped his milk carton on him.

Lila stared at him. "What ever is so funny?"

Arnold summarized the scenario in the cafeteria. Lila sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, bewildered, as she listened to the things Arnold said. When he finished, though, she had only one question.

"Are you really taking Helga to Homecoming?"

Arnold had almost forgotten about the declaration he had made. "I guess so. I mean, if she wants to go." He chuckled. "I guess I have to ask her first, huh? I don't know how fun it will be, but at least it will make her part of things, you know? Make her feel not so left out. She really needs that, especially after the past few weeks."

Lila nodded, and then furrowed her brow. "But…it's two days before Homecoming!"

Arnold winced. "Better late than never?"

She shrugged. "I really hope you two have fun. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to decline my nomination for Homecoming Queen, since I won't be here for the dance."

"Why not?"

She stared at him. "Helga didn't tell you? She gave me the number of Eastlyn Clinic. It's a long term, inpatient addiction treatment. Daddy's going to stay there for five months. He's ready to be free of this addiction." She smiled. "I have ever so much hope, Arnold. We've never tried an inpatient program before, and I think that this could really be what Daddy needs."

"That's great, Lila! I really hope it works too, for your Dad's sake, and yours."

She nodded. "In the meantime, while Daddy stays at Eastlyn, I'm going to stay with some relatives back in Pleasantville. I'm going to go to school there, too, just for the semester. I'm sure it will be ever so strange at first, but ever so wonderful as well."

The loud ringing of the bell jerked them out of their conversation. Doors banged open, and students started to pour out of classroom, yelling, laughing, and talking.

"I hope everything works out for you!" Arnold yelled to Lila above the noise. They exchanged a brief farewell before heading their separate ways.

Arnold squeezed through the crowds. Luckily his next period was Study Hall, so he could relax a little. After all the excitement, he wasn't ready for his brain to be bombarded with information just yet.

As he turned the corner from the East to the North Hall, he spotted Helga at her locker. Well, now would be as good of a time as any to ask her. As Lila had pointed out, the dance was in two days.

He felt his pulse quicken as he approached her. He swallowed. Why was he nervous? The worst she could say was no. Knowing Helga, that was probably the answer he'd get. In fact, he'd be surprised if he didn't get rejected.

She turned and saw him. Was it his imagination, or did he see her jump? It suddenly occurred to him that she had probably heard what he had said in the cafeteria. She was probably plotting the most humiliating way to turn him down. He cringed, but bravery prevailed and he stopped next to her locker. "Hey, Helga."

Helga could hear her own heartbeat as she turned around to look at him. The blood was rushing in her ears so quickly that she was positive she'd faint. "Hey," she managed. No added insult, no _football head_ or _hair boy_. Her mouth was far too dry for wasted words. She thrust her hands behind her back to hide the fact that they were shaking.

"So…uh…" Arnold wasn't sure where to begin. "I guess you heard everything I said in the cafeteria, huh?"

Inhale. "Yeah." It was a simple, unabridged word, no meaning or hidden feeling behind it. If she had been braver, she might have stretched out the word, adding a flirty twist to it while raising her eyebrow. Or, she could've made it short and biting, as she had so many times before. But this time, it was just a single word.

"So I guess you heard the part, uh…what I said about you." Arnold shuffled his foot, and then chuckled a little. "I guess…I guess I got a little crazy back there. I kind of blurted it out without thinking."

Her heart stopped. He didn't mean it? Was he going to go back on his word?

_Helga, you are so stupid for thinking he'd ever take you._

"What I'm saying is….I didn't mean to embarrass you by saying it in front of the whole school."

_Embarrass me? You did anything but._ Exhale.

"But…I really would like to take you. If you want to go, that is. I think we might have fun. I don't know. I know it's last minute and all, but…."

Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhaleinhaleexhale. God, she was turning into Brainy. Say something, do something, quick, slip the mask back on. Too late, a bit of her real self had seeped out.

"Wow…I, I, I'd love to!" she exclaimed. "I mean, if you want to take me, I _guess_ I'll go. I guess after all you've done for me lately, especially setting the record straight with those jerks, the least I can do is go to this…this little dance with you. But you're paying for my ticket, got it?"

"Of course," he smiled at her. "I asked you, didn't I? So…I'll call you tonight, with the plans and stuff. What time I can pick you up, that sort of thing."

Forget inhaling. She couldn't breathe. He had such a wonderful smile. The mask slipped out of her fingers. All she could manage was a nod.

She watched him walk away. It was only a matter of time before her legs gave out. Students around her watched in bewilderment as she fell to the floor with a sigh.

000000000000000000000000000

He saw her immediately across the hallway. Something about her aura, her very being, always made her stand out to him. The other students, yelling and screaming in the usual end-of-the-day celebration, were a mere background, and she was the shining star.

He watched as she leaned over the drinking fountain, balancing her books against her chest, holding her hair back with one hand. Her soft lips formed a small O as she delicately sipped the cool water.

He thought of the perfect pick-up line: _I wish I were that water._ If she had been any other girl, he could've and probably would've used it. But she was not "any other girl." She was too good for every pick-up line in existence.

He squared his shoulders and walked over to her. She saw him approaching and straightened up. Wiping droplets of water from her mouth, she smiled at him. "Hello, Gerald."

"Hi, Phoebe." No winking, no cocking of the head, no added extra bells or whistles. He fell into step beside her. "Listen, uh, I was wondering if we could have a little talk. I know you probably have a bus to catch and you need to hurry…"

"Not at all," she smiled. "As a matter of fact, I've decided to walk home today. It's beautiful outside, and the walking will be good exercise."

He nodded. "That's..great. Maybe I could walk with you….I'd like to ask you something. About the dance on Saturday….were you plannin' on going?"


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Yes, I know that it's been almost three months since an update. You cannot imagine how good it feels to be able to write again! Spring Semester was crazy for me. I had...no spare time...at all. But now things will quiet down for quite awhile. Check my profile for more information. To make up for the time lag, this chapter is longer than any of my other ones. I actually wanted to add more...but then I decided against it. I'll try to really pick up the pace and have the next chapter up in hopefully a week or so. I'm really excited to write the next few chapters. Thank you for your patience!

Personal Inscriptions:

I've received general consensus that Gerald was OOC in my last chapter. I don't really understand what part of the story you guys think he was OOC. Was it him not standing up for Helga, or expressing doubt in his relationship with Phoebe, or...both? I picked up this part of his character from episodes such as "Bag of Money", where Gerald goes along with the crowd (at least at first) despite the fact that it may not be right. I think that may be a slight fault of his character. He cares so much about coolness that he may not always do the right thing. Because, after all, he's not perfect! ;)

Zappanale: Thank you. I tried not to rush writing this chapter. Glad you like my story!

Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro: Yeah, Arnold took a lot on his shoulders, but I think he pulled it off well.

Hurricos: How could you possibly put such an expensive hospital bill in my hands? You guys are so evil! grins Unfortunately, for now, Alex is alive and well. We have to keep him around so he can finish the story. And I don't think you and your homies are going to be pleased with what happens in this chapter... Don't worry, though. He'll get what he deserves, eventually.

Hellerick Ferlibay: Patience, my friend:)

xo Just Another Suicide xo: Thanks! Yeah, schoolwork gets me down...like I said before, though, I'll have much less work during the summer, so you can expect more updates!

Inferna: What can I say? I'm quite flattered that you think my fic is worth reviewing. Yeah, Helga has had to endure a lot, and major giveaway she will have to endure even more. I'm evil! But I think that even though she is suffering, she will not break. She is strong.

desired-hanyou-aly: At your request, here's an update!

LateOrliBloomer: Thanks! I really do appreciate all your comments. And...you're right, I made a typo there. That's what I get for trying to edit and watch TV at the same time!

mxnhpfreak: Helga turning into Brainy...yep, that's one of my favorite lines. :)

ungfh: Wow. Needless to say, I was extremely flattered by your comment. Actually, I'm thinking of declaring a minor in English sometime soon. And, yeah, rape is powerful when used in writing. Actually, when I first had the idea for this story, the "attempted rape" scene didn't even cross my mind. It was only later that I had the revelation...why, I'm not sure exactly, but I'm glad I did. It makes the story original, more powerful, and adds a bit of dramatic irony, I think...

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 7

Helga stood awkwardly in the middle of Nana's Boutique, fiddling with the end of her ponytail. Fabrics engulfed her: satin, velvet, lace, silk, nylon, and acrylic, all in a dizzying variety of colors and patterns.

The concept had seemed so simple: find a dress. She hadn't realized that there would be so many selections. Nor had she realized that every other high school in the city was having their Homecoming Dance tonight, and that many girls would act as she had and wait until the very last minute to find a dress. Nana's Boutique was crowded with high school girls all desperately trying to find the perfect dress. They arrived in small groups, usually with matching hair styles and similar clothes, smacking on fruity smelling gum, sipping low fat milkshakes from the Slausen's down the street (despite the glares of the clerks and the sign that said, 'Please, no food or drinks'), running in and out of the dressing room with five different dresses, chatting loudly on their cell phones, complaining about how bad pink looked with their skin tones, and asking, "Guys, does this make me look fat? No, guys, really, I'm serious! Do I look fat?"

Definitely not Helga's typical scene. She fit in much better in the arena of a wrestling tournament or the stadium of a football field. Still, the fact remained: the dance was in six hours, and she needed a dress.

How hard could it be to find something? Helga grabbed the hanger of the dress nearest to her-a frilly pink ball gown a la Cinderella-and held it up to her body. She stomped her way to the nearest available mirror. Ugh. She looked like a frosted cupcake. She tried another, a strapless black and white dress. That didn't work either. She looked like she was on her way to a 1950's cocktail party.

She was still not quite sure that this was all real. What was she, Helga Pataki, doing here, buying a dress for a school dance? More than a dance. It was, technically, a date. With the only boy she could ever imagine being with, no less. The skin of her upper arm underneath her t-shirt was covered with bruises where she had continually pinched herself over the last two days. The wonderful dream had continued. Arnold had called her Thursday night to confirm plans. She hadn't snapped at him or said one mean thing. Then again, she had to admit that she hadn't been particularly nice either. More like nonchalant. Emotionless.

"So, I'll pick you up at seven?" Arnold had said.

"Okay," she replied. The word was flat. Not cold, exactly. Just indifferent. As if he was telling her tomorrow's weather forecast.

"All right. So, um, I guess...that's the plan."

"Okay."

"Great. Uh...see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye."

Well, at least apathy was preferable to bitterness. Or so she thought. It was tough. She was so used to hiding her emotions behind anger. Indifference was a step up, but not much. She hoped that tonight, at least, she could show at least a bit of her tender side.

Friday had been nice, too. It was obvious that many of the kids were still on a "high" from the previous day's event. Arnold's speech in the lunchroom was a hot topic. He had said what so many of them had wanted to say, some of them for years. The injustice done by the "in" crowd had run deep over the years. Those who had been teased, taunted, gossiped about, not invited to parties, abandoned by people they thought were their friends, and tripped in the hallways were all grateful that someone had finally come to their defense. Arnold was the courageous one, the hero. He had done the unthinkable: sacrificed major social status to stand up for what was right.

It turned out that his greatness was partially bestowed upon her, as well. Throughout the day, people had waved and winked at her. Not much, but it surely beat the "shunning" that had occurred three weeks ago.

Of course, not everyone was so kind. She received almost as many glares and middle fingers as she did positive feedback. The popular crowd was pissed. They weren't happy about being called out in front of half the school. She just laughed at them. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Did they really think that giving her the finger made her upset or something? They didn't get it. She didn't care. Her breaking point was far beyond that of 99 of anyone at Hillwood High. She had endured an attempted rape and a social shunning. She could handle anything.

She still thought about the attack, and Alex, occasionally. Though what he had done to her still angered her to no avail, it no longer filled her with fear and nausea as it had the first few days afterwards. She refused to let some stupid, arrogant kid torment her dreams where he didn't belong. But oh, how she would have loved to make him pay. She hoped that all the thugs in juvie were messing that soft, spoiled rich kid up good. Let him endure six weeks of pure hell. And, when he got out, if he ever, ever tried to mess with her again, she'd be ready this time. She'd tear out his intestines the old-fashioned way and wrap them around his neck, three times. She'd rip out his eyeballs.

Of course, he probably wouldn't mess with her again. Not after the way that Arnold had delivered a smooth, solid punch to the middle of his ugly face...

He was her savior, not once, but twice. The good hearted soul that she had always known had prevailed Thursday when he stood up for her in front of the whole cafeteria.

In her mind, she recalled over and over the things he had said: _I may not be her best friend…I may not know everything about her…but I do know that everything you are saying about her _is not true_! If you even got to know her a little, you would know how intelligent, funny, and creative she is._

_Oh, my darling..._

She gently touched her locket. The cold metal was pressing against her skin under her shirt. Her locket, the symbol of her beloved, was always with her. He was in her every heartbeat. He was a part of the air she breathed.

She felt a soliloquy coming on. A quick survey of the store revealed a narrow space between a wall and a rack of dresses. Everyone else in the store was too involved in themselves to notice her slipping into the space.

"Oh, Arnold, my soul, my beloved. Dare I think that these past few days have been more than just another dream? In a mere six hours, one of my most secret and precious wishes will come true. You and I, together. Finally I may have a chance to-"

Her words were immediately cut off by something hitting her hard in the back. She was knocked forward, smacking her head against the metal rack of dresses. She landed face first onto the store's expensive carpet, caught in a tangle of limbs with the person who had tripped over her.

"Oh, wow," said a vaguely familiar voice. "Sorry about that."

Helga rubbed her throbbing head. "Here's a brilliant idea. Why don't you watch where you're going?" she snapped.

"I know. I'm quite the klutz." The person knelt down next to Helga. "You all right?"

Helga glanced up into a pair of bright blue eyes. The person that had knocked her over was a tall, thin girl about her same age. Her long blonde hair was combed flat and parted on one side. She wore no makeup, but was dressed more flamboyantly than most high school kids would have, in a long, white, flowing sundress covered with gold stars. The two gold hoop earrings dangling to her shoulders matched the dress.

The girl repeated, "Are you okay?"

"I'll live," Helga muttered as the girl helped her to her feet. "My concussion should be better in, oh, two weeks."

The girl visibly winced. "That bad, huh?"

Helga frowned. "It was a _joke, _doi."

The girl chuckled a little. "I know. So, uh, you're buying a dress?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "No. I'm here to get my poodle groomed."

The girl grinned at her. "Kind of a stupid question, I know. Anyway, I hate to break it to you, but you're probably not going to find any dresses in that little space you were sitting in."

She could feel the blush seeping up her cheeks. "For your information, I dropped...uh...a nickel down there."

The girl shrugged. "Either way, you're empty handed. I assume you're having as much trouble as I did finding a dress."

Helga scoffed. "Yeah. All of the dresses are made for girls like that." She pointed across the store at an attractive girl who was standing in front of a mirror in a silky, light blue ball gown with all of her friends oohing and aahing around her.

The girl cringed slightly. "I know what you mean. I'm more of, you could say, a free spirit. But I took the bus for forty five minutes to get here, and I was determined to leave with _something_."

Helga frowned and crossed her arms. "You took the bus for forty five minutes to _buy a dress_?"

The girl laughed. "I didn't want to. This was the closest formal attire store to my house. There definitely aren't any in our tiny little town. Heck, there aren't even any clothing stores. All we have is a general store, a church, and a one screen cinema."

"Criminy. So did you find a dress?"

"I did, actually." The girl held up the dress she had been holding. It was strapless, made of navy blue velvet. When held up to the light, tiny silver half moons and stars were visible on the skirt.

Helga was impressed. "Wow. Where'd you find that?"

"Over by the back wall. It was the last one."

Helga blew out a breath. "Great."

"You can find one, too. All you have to do is find something that suits your personality. Let's see...what's your favorite color?"

"Uh...pink, I guess. Violet. Light blue. Something like that."

The girl pondered for a moment, then said, "Come with me." She led Helga through racks of dresses, past a group of giggling girls, and past a long row of mirrors. She reached into one of the racks and pulled out a piece of fabric. "How about this?"

Helga's eyes widened. The dress was held up by spaghetti straps. The sheer, silky fabric started out, at the top of the dress, light blue on one side and creamy pink on the other. Down the length of the dress, the two colors gradually meshed together, forming a brilliant violet at the bottom of the dress.

It was fairly simple. There were no decorations, no lace, no bows or frills. And yet...it was perfect.

"Cool," she breathed, taking the dress gently from the girl. She flipped over the tag to make sure that it was the correct size-it was-and turned back to the girl. "Thanks a lot, um..."

The girl smiled at her. "Hilda."

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Arnold wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror and studied himself. Carefully he placed his blue hat in the middle of his wild blonde hair. He was vividly aware that it was too small, and that it clashed with the black suit he was wearing. But he couldn't bear to part with it for a night, especially this particular night. The thirteen year anniversary of when his parents left. The piece of faded blue cloth that he placed atop his head every day was one of the only remnants he had left of his Mom and Dad.

Tonight probably wouldn't be easy, he knew. But he was determined to try to have as much fun as possible and not let the anniversary get him down.

Arnold stepped backwards. He thought he looked okay. He never really spent that much time on his appearance, unlike his best friend. Most days, Gerald would spend a good half hour on his hair alone. Tonight he would probably increase the time to an hour. Arnold had been surprised, though pleasantly so, when he found out that Gerald was taking Phoebe to the dance.

He honestly had no idea how his own "date" would go. Helga hadn't been nasty to him these past few days, but she hadn't really been nice to him, either. Instead, she had been reserved, emotionless. So unlike her typical personality, passionate, raging, and bold. He wondered if maybe she didn't want to go with him after all.

Well, of course she didn't, he reminded himself. She was only doing this out of gratefulness of him sticking up for her in the cafeteria. She had said so herself. It wasn't like she was actually happy about this.

Or maybe she was. She hadn't said no, after all. Besides, they were friends. Weren't they? She hadn't come right out and said, "You're my friend," but that's where he felt they stood now, especially after everything that had happened. He had stood up for her in front of the whole cafeteria. Surely she knew that he cared about her. As a friend.

Well, of course as a friend. What else could there be?

The humidity in the bathroom was giving him a headache. He needed out of there.

When he emerged, he was nearly knocked over by Ernie. "What were you doing in there, working a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle?!" he shouted before he slammed the door shut. Arnold sighed and rolled his eyes. Down the hall, he could hear Oscar and Suzie arguing about something. The crashes and shouts made him wince. From somewhere in the house, the dogs barked, the cats meowed, and the pig oinked. And now the phone was ringing.

Never a dull moment, Arnold thought. He rushed to the phone and retrieved it from its cradle. "Hello?"

"Arnold!" It was Gerald.

"Oh, hey, Gerald. What's going on?"

Gerald blew out a breath. "Man...I got some serious bad news."

Arnold paused. "Let me guess. You ran out of hair gel again."

"No! Arnold, man, this is serious!"

Something in the tone of his voice made Arnold stop smiling. "Okay, okay. What's wrong?"

There was a long pause. Arnold could hear Gerald take in air. The seconds ticked past. Arnold began to grow anxious. "Are you still there?..."

"Yeah. Arnold..."Gerald sighed. "Alex is out of jail."

"WHAT?!" Arnold's eyes widened. Feeling his knees grow weak, he steadied himself against the wall.

"It's true, man. They let him outta juvie this morning."

Arnold shook his head in disbelief. "How...I mean...he was supposed to be in for thirty days, at least. And it's only been, what? Five days?"

"Four, actually."

He rubbed the front of his temples. Feeling the phone grow sweaty in his hand, he switched the receiver to the other ear. "How did this happen, Gerald?"

"Alex had his first meeting with the judge today. His case was reevaluated. The supervisor for the detention center gave a recommendation of Alex getting out early for his good behavior-"

"Good behavior," Arnold muttered, gritting his teeth. "What he did to Helga was _good behavior_?"

"I know, man. Anyway, the judge looked at all of the evidence and said that the damage done to Helga was less than he previously thought. He was willing to let Alex serve the rest of his term out of jail on probation."

Arnold paced back and forth in the narrow range allowed by the phone cord. "That's crazy! Helga had to have stitches! Didn't the judge know that?"

"I guess so. She didn't have any broken bones or anything."

"What does that matter?!" Arnold was shouting now. "How does that make what he did any less horrific?"

"Calm down, Arnold. I'm with you on this one," Gerald said. "I think that judge was crazy. I mean, four days? It wasn't nearly enough time for what he did."

Arnold was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Are you sure about all of this, Gerald?" he asked. "Are you sure that this isn't just another rumor?"

"I wish it was, brother," sighed Gerald. "Iggy told me. He heard it directly from Justin. And you know that Justin always has all the information on Alex."

Arnold knew that his best friend was right. He sighed. Suddenly, a horrible thought struck him. Gripping the receiver in anxiety, he said, "Gerald?"

"Yeah?"

"Alex is out of jail now? Right now?"

"Yeah, ever since this morning."

"Is he suspended from school?"

Gerald paused to think. "I don't think so. The last I heard, he was only suspended as long as he stayed in juvie hall."

"So he's not suspended from _school events_?"

There was a moment of silence as Gerald tried to figure out what Arnold meant. Finally, he got it. "Oh, wow, man...I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that."

Arnold put a hand to his head. "I can't believe this is happening. On top of everything else, Helga might have to see the guy that almost raped her tonight."

"Maybe not." Gerald was the one looking on the bright side, for once. "Maybe Alex won't show up. A lot of the kids aren't even going to the dance because so many other parties are going on. Hey, did I tell you that Mandy and Christina aren't coming tonight? They got invited to a frat party up at Germasen College. So we don't even have to worry about them being mad at us for bailing on them."

This did not make Arnold feel better. "I hope that no college guy tries to rape them," he said sincerely. Mandy and Christina were mean, selfish, and arrogant, but he wouldn't wish what had happened to Helga on anyone, even them. He sighed. "How am I going to break the news to Helga?"

"Don't," Gerald advised. "Like I said, Alex might not even be there. In fact, I'm almost positive that he won't be there. I think that guy's gonna have to lie low for a few days. A lot of the kids are gonna be wary of him now. He and his whole crew have been taken down a few pegs, thanks to you, man."

Arnold couldn't help but smile at that. His actions might have been, well, unplanned, and maybe even crazy, but now most of the kids-those who chose to believe it-knew the truth about Alex.

His smile was brief, however. "I don't know, Gerald. It doesn't feel right to just not tell her. What if I don't tell her, and then he _is_ there? What kind of friend would that make me? She shouldn't have to deal with that."

"Look, man," Gerald said. "I'm not saying that it's good to lie to her. But why get her worked up over nothing? I mean, the whole point of you asking her to the dance was for her to have a good time and take her mind off everything, right?"

He knew that Gerald was correct. Yes, if he told her, the night would probably be ruined, and so would any plans he had of trying to make her feel better. But if he just left her in the dark...

"I don't know about this..."

"Look, man, it's your decision. But remember, even if Alex does come, what are the odds you'll run into him? The gym is huge, plus they'll probably have all the lights out."

He sighed. "I'll...have to think about it. Anyway, thanks for calling to tell me."

"No problem. I'll see you tonight, okay? Seven thirty?"

Arnold nodded, though he knew Gerald couldn't see him. "Seven thirty."

Gerald must have noticed the despondency in his voice. "You gonna be okay, man?"

"I...I guess so." The night had already started out with a dark cloud over it. The dark cloud had now become a raging thunderstorm. "I'll see you in a couple hours...okay...bye."

Arnold wondered if it was possible to burrow underneath his blankets and come out sometime next year.

No, he was being ridiculous. Gerald was right. Everything would probably be fine.

Still, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach similar to the feeling he'd had before his fourteenth birthday party.

000000000000000000000

Helga examined her reflection in the mirror. She hadn't worn a dress since the sixth grade, when she made an upgrade to jeans. And this was not the kind of dress she was used to wearing. The soft, silky fabric flowed delicately around her body. She was...okay. Pretty, even.

She hadn't made any drastic changes to her appearance. She wasn't going to make the same mistake that she had at Rhonda Lloyd's fourth grade slumber party. She had worn only a bit of makeup-some of her mom's clear mascara and a dab of pink lip gloss. She no longer needed concealer to hide her bruises, fortunately. Her injuries were healed, although she did still have a few more pills left to take, the oral steroids the doctor had prescribed to keep her throat from closing. She honestly doubted that she needed them anymore-her throat was fine, as far as she was concerned-but Miriam kept a close watch on her every day to make sure that she took them.

She pivoted sideways to look at her hair. She had worn it down for once, pulling the sides back with her pink ribbon. It had grown surprisingly long-it fell down half the length of her back. She turned back to the mirror. Her unibrow still graced the area between her face and her hairline. Her small, round ears were only partially concealed by her hair.

She picked up her locket from the dresser, and then sighed as she remembered that she would have to leave it behind. Her dress was low cut. She had not realized this when she bought the dress, and it made her slightly uncomfortable. Anyway, it was too low for her to be able to tuck the locket underneath. The locket would have to stay with Monster tonight.

She turned to the creature that was poking his head out from under her bed. "You'll take good care of my locket, won't you?"

"Psssssstttth," he replied.

"Just don't eat it," she said. She snorted. "You don't have to eat everything that reveals my secret."

She didn't even know what Monster ate. Once a week, she would let him outside, and he would disappear. Several hours later, he would come back, usually with feathers around his mouth. Probably he just ate other people's annoying parrots.

Helga fell backwards onto her bed. She held her locket above her head, gazing into those captivating green eyes. Every school picture, Arnold sported a lazy, dreamy half-smile, as if his mind were miles away, somewhere she couldn't yet reach but so desperately wanted to.

"My love, how I long to get into that adorable football-shaped head of yours, just once, to hear your most private and personal thoughts. And I hope-do I dare?-that maybe some of your thoughts involve me, Helga G. Pataki..."

Helga closed her eyes and sighed. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and looked at her watch. It was five till seven. She stood up slowly, reluctant as always to leave her daydreams, setting her locket facedown in the bottom drawer of her nightstand, just in case.

Walking toward her door, her eye caught the brown bottle of pills on her dresser. She hadn't taken a steroid today. She probably didn't need it, but just in case...

She reached for the bottle. A knock on her bedroom door caused her to jump. The bottle flew from her hand and in between the dresser and the wall.

"Oh, crap," she muttered, but wasn't too concerned. She hadn't had trouble breathing in weeks. Nothing bad was going to happen.

Miriam opened her bedroom door. "Hi, honey. Are you ready yet? Oh, my goodness, you look, just, so gorgeous! I should get the camera, um, oh, let's see, where did I put it last?"

The doorbell rang. Helga felt her heart rate take off and race like an Olympic runner. She swallowed. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe! It was just Arnold. The boy she had loved, and adored, and dreamed of being with, coming to pick her up on their very first date...

_Yeah, _just_ Arnold._

Helga started toward the door. Monster slid out from under the bed and followed her down the hall. From behind, her mother called, "Oh, honey...did you remember to take your medicine?"

"Um, yeah, sure, Mom," she replied. A small lie wouldn't hurt. It would take forever to get the bottle out from behind the dresser, and she didn't want to keep her beloved waiting.

She froze, her hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, tried to relax, and twisted the knob.

Arnold was standing there, looking as gorgeous as ever in that black suit. His two usual tufts of golden hair stuck out from either side of his usual blue hat.

But...something was wrong. He wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked...anxious? Was it possible that he was nervous?

_Helga looks nice,_ Arnold thought. She had her hair down, which he rarely saw. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he saw her dressed up. She looked...happy. She was smiling, slightly, another thing he rarely saw. Inwardly he sighed. _I can't crush her spirit just now by telling her about Alex._

"Hi, Helga," he smiled, but it felt forced.

"Hey," she replied. Arnold then noticed that she was not alone. A fifty pound brown reptile was lying on the carpet next to her, flicking a forked tongue up at him. His eyes widened.

"Is that?..."

She smirked at him. "You got it, Football Head."

Arnold shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the creature that ate his pet parrot five years ago in Mr. Simmons' classroom. "What...uh...what do you feed him?"

"Oh, you know, rats, small children, annoying birds." Noticing his expression, she added, "That was a _joke_?"

"Oh," He forced a small chuckle. Then he added, "You know, I was actually quite fond of that parrot. He was really smart. He recited poetry..."

"Don't get me started-" she broke off, realizing that she might reveal too much. There was a reason that she was eternally grateful to Monster.

"Oh, hi, you're here!" Helga's mom appeared from downstairs, carrying the camera she had finally found after quite a bit of searching upstairs.

Helga rolled her eyes. Doi, of course he was here. Her mom wasn't deaf; she had heard the doorbell too.

"Uh...I have the camera now, so, if you would pose for just a minute..."

Arnold moved closer to his date. Her mom fiddled with the camera for a minute. He sneaked a glance at Helga.

_Should I tell her? Would it be the right thing to do?_

"Okay, smile!"

_But she looks so happy. Who I am to ruin that? _Click. Click.

"Oh, um, darn it, the flash didn't go off. What's wrong with this thing?..." Miriam started pushing buttons on the camera.

"Mooooooom, any minute today," Helga moaned. But he didn't miss the hint of a smile on her face.

_She's really in a good mood tonight. _Flash! He forced a smile. Flash!

"Okay, can we go now?" Helga said impatiently.

_If I do tell her, when? It should be before the dance. In the car, maybe? What if she gets emotional? What if she cries again? I don't want to make her cry!_

Helgalooked surprised when he opened the front door for her. While her mom commented, "What a gentlemen!", Helga just rolled her eyes and sighed. He watched her stomp down the steps toward Grandpa's Packard parked in front of the house. He was confused. Was she mad at him for opening the door for her? Maybe she didn't want him to act as if this were an actual date. After all, she was only doing this as a favor to him, or so she said.

Ironic, he thought, because he was only doing this as a favor to her. Or so he thought.

As he watched her head toward the car, he wondered one more time: _Should I tell her? _

He stopped her halfway to the car by putting his hand on her shoulder. "Helga, wait."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: After many frustrating nights sitting at the computer, unable to find the write words, after many Sunday nights being able to sneak in a single paragraph, after many times of me saying, "I really _should_ work on my fanfic…", this chapter is _finally _finished and posted for your enjoyment. I know it's shorter than the others, but where I ended it seemed like a good place to.

Personal Inscriptions:

Hellerick Ferlibay: Oh, no! Did I make this chapter too predicatable? I was going for foreshadowing, but I guess I overdid it a bit. There's still a lot of suspense, though, I think. I'm glad to hear you liked Hilda, putting her in as a little guider in Helga's life seemed like a good idea.

acosta perez jose ramiro: Haha yes, you're right! Thank you!

**Everyone else read this too, it's important**Amanda: You're exactly right, I was waiting for someone to point this out. Basically, at the beginning of the story, Arnold doesn't know Justin all that well. He knows him more "by proxy"-he is a friend of a friend. He judges Justin to be "the perfect boyfriend" from the little he knows about him, but Justin's true character quickly shows through. You can see this even before the whole rape incident-Justin doesn't want to talk about Lila's problems, he abandons her at the party to go talk to some friends, despite the fact that she is clearly upset, etc. So it wasn't a 180 in his character-his true character was just revealed gradually.

Zappanale: Thank you; that's a really good thing to know.

desired-hanyou-aly: You'll see.

Hurricos: I know, I know….shakes head

Semi-Crazywithalittle weirdness: Thanks!

Dark Lady of the Sith: Unfortunately, you're right.

MadamFortressMama: Thank you! 

xBakura's lovex: But, you see, the cliffhanger keeps you coming back for more!

DXM Junkie: Haha thanks, and you'll see.

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 8

_He_'s _touching my shoulder_, Helga realized as she slowly turned around. The warmth from his hand spread from her shoulder to the rest of her body. She was bathed in a white glow that she could probably not describe even in her poetry. Pure bliss.

Struggling to keep her wits about her, she said, as politely as possible, "Yes?"

Arnold dropped his eyes to the cracked sidewalk. "I want to ask you something."

"Uh, okay, Arnold, shoot." She smiled.

"Is it...I mean...do you want to do this?" Noticing the confusion on her face, he added, "Go to the dance, I mean. Because we don't have to. I mean, I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into anything. You don't have to do this out of gratitude to me. I just wanted you to have a good time tonight. But if you're uncomfortable with this-with us-I can understand."

She blinked. _Oh, Arnold, my love, you fool, how can you be so naive? Can't you see what's right in front of you?_

She had to admit, though, that she wasn't sending interpreter-friendly signals. She hadn't even thanked him when he opened the door for her. The truth was, she had stomped away so that he wouldn't see the idiotic grin on her face. She was living her dream, but how could Arnold possibly know that?

"Well, I mean, of course I want to do this. We're already dressed and everything and...well, criminy, why would I turn back now?"

"I know," he rubbed his arm, "but I'm feeling kind of bad. I kind of feel like I forced you into this, and I know that events like these really aren't your thing..."

He was so sweet, always concerned about the feelings of others...Inwardly she sighed. But criminy! What did she have to do to convince him that she really did want to go?

"Arnold, look," she dared to take his arm, "I'm here, you're here, so let's just go! Who cares if it's lame? At the very least we can make fun of all those "popular" kids who are at each other's throats trying to become "King" and "Queen"," she smirked.

To her relief, he smiled. "Yeah...okay. Let's go."

They walked a few feet to the Packard. Helga nearly swooned as Arnold opened the passenger side door for her. She climbed in next to Arnold's grandpa, who had fallen asleep in the parked car. He startled awake as the two teenagers climbed into the car.

"Ahhh...well, don't you look nice, young lady," he smiled at her.

Not used to compliments, she felt a little uncomfortable. "Thanks," she said curtly, fastening her seatbelt.

"Doesn't she look nice, short man?" Phil winked at Arnold in the rearview mirror.

Arnold smiled. "Yeah, she does."

Grandpa started up the Packard and drove away from Helga's house. "Aren't you two just adorable together! I remember my first school dance...the year was 1934. I was so nervous, hehe, my stomach felt like a bowl of split pea soup! My date was looking quite charming in her feed sack dress...that was the fashion back then..."

Grandpa's story took up the three mile drive. When they pulled up to the high school, the parking lot was jammed with cars, and the entrance of the school was filled with parents dropping their kids off. The dance was being held in the gym. In front of the gym, there was a table were students paid for their tickets. Currently, the line extended out to the street.

Helga's eyes widened. "Criminy...what a mess."

"Grandpa, you can just drop us off here," Arnold assured him. The Packard screeched to a halt, and the two teenagers climbed out.

Grandpa said to them, "Have fun, kids, stay safe, and remember..."

"Never eat raspberries," Arnold finished his sentence. His Grandpa burst into laughter as he drove away.

Arnold couldn't resist a small chuckle himself. The look on Helga's face was one of total bewilderment. "Um...my grandpa is...quite a character," he offered the best possible explanation.

She turned to him, half of her eyebrow raised. "That story wasn't true, was it? The part about him saving the school dance from an evil clown with telekinesis powers?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "I think he's been watching one too many horror movies lately." He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock off the sidewalk. He stared across the street, toward the west and away from the school, where there was an open field, one of the few left in the whole city. Hillwood High School was on the outskirts of the city, on top of a hill, away from most of the bustle. The open field belonged to a company who claimed that they would soon build a chemical plant there, but it hadn't happened yet.

In the meantime, the open field gave a clear view of the setting sun. The orange-pink ball had already sunk halfway across the horizon. Multicolored strips of light reached their way into the depths of the dim sky, as if saying their final goodbye for the night.

_How romantic,_ Helga thought with a silent sigh. Turning toward her love, she said nonchalantly, "Pretty cool, huh?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah. It's beautiful." After a few seconds, "I wish that we had known about this field when we were kids. It would've been perfect for playing tag, or flying a kite. The park was always too crowded, and the playground at school closed at five o clock. We used to sometimes have to play in the street, remember?"

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "We almost got ourselves run over a few times playing baseball until we found Gerald Field. It was too small to play tag or fly a kite, but it worked for baseball or football games."

He nodded, then hesitated. "I sometimes wish things could be like that again. Back when we all played together. Why'd we stop, anyway?"

She shrugged. "A few people stopped coming...and then a few more...and a few more...I don't know. I only stopped coming because there was hardly anyone there anymore."

"Me too. I guess other people stopped coming, because, well, junior high came, and we had more schoolwork, and more obligations..."

Helga stared at him. "Get real, Arnold. I'll tell you what happened. Friendships got complicated. There were _boundaries_. Boundaries that weren't there, or at least not as pronounced, when we were in fourth grade. There were cliques. We didn't play together anymore because there was an unwritten rule-still is-that we have to stay in our own little groups."

He sighed, knowing she was right. "I just...I hate it. I always have. I don't understand why we can't all get along and be friends."

"Because that's not the way the world works." Helga glanced at him, then added with a smile, "But I think you definitely broke some boundaries on Thursday, Football Head. I have to give it to you, that took guts."

He grinned at her. "Yeah." _I did it for you_, he didn't add. But she knew that. Didn't she? True, he had been tired of the popular crowd's antics for a long time, but it was their insulting her that had resulted in his breaking point. She had heard everything he said. Surely she knew that she was the whole reason he had stood up to them.

She was looking at him carefully. "You do know that you're an "outsider" now, though, right?"

"I don't care," he said honestly. "Trust me, none of "us" are missing anything. Those guys have nothing that we want."

Helga smiled. Arnold was so brave, so desperate to stand up for what he believed in. He was right: in a perfect world, clothes and money and beauty shouldn't matter, and personality and kindness and generosity should matter. Most of the student body admired Arnold now for taking a stand. But the sad truth was, in a month or so the incident would probably be forgotten. Things would go back to the way they were before, with the "popular" crowd ruling the school, and the outsiders standing around like desperate dogs longing for a morsel of meat. And this time, Arnold would be on the outside instead of the inside.

He was strong, though. Helga hadn't cracked under the torment of the "in" crowd, and she knew Arnold wouldn't either. She didn't care if they were outsiders, as long as they were outsiders together.

They stood in silence for a few moments, staring at the sunset. Then Helga turned back toward the school. The line to the gym had shortened somewhat. "So...uh... you wanna go in?"

Arnold turned and looked at the line of kids. They stood in small groups, talking, giggling, flirting, shoving each other around, and adding last minute touches to their makeup. Not a mess he particularly wanted to be in right now.

"Not really," he confessed. He turned back to the sun. Then, he sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm really looking forward to tonight." Quickly, he added, "No offense. It's not you. It's just...I wish the dance wasn't today, of all days. Any other day would've been fine, but today..."

Helga was confused. What was today? It was a Saturday. Arnold had no inhibitions against Saturday, as far as she knew. It was October, the beginning of the month. The fourth day. No, the fifth...

October fifth.

"Oh, God," she said aloud. How could she have forgotten? A wave of guilt made her feel sick. _Oh, Arnold! How selfish I have been, how conceited! All this time, I've only focused on myself and on the hope that this night might be special for us, never once stopping to remember the significance of this particular day to you, my beloved. Never once putting your feelings over mine! _"I...I'm sorry. I guess I forgot that it was...the anniversary of when your parents left." _Oh, smooth,_ she told herself. _Say it out loud and make it worse._

But Arnold only looked confused. "How did you know that it was the anniversary of when my parents left? I only remember telling that to Gerald. I didn't think that I told you..."

He hadn't. She had found it out, several years ago, when she was spying on him as usual. "Uh, well..." She fumbled for words, "You...you must've told me, right? I mean, how else would I have known?"

He shrugged. "I guess." He let out a sigh that cracked her heart. What could she say? She wasn't exactly the best at making people feel better.

"You know, Arnold...we don't have to do this," she said in a moment of selflessness. "If it's too hard for you, we could call it off..."

He looked up at her, shaking his head. "Didn't I say the same thing to you a half hour ago? And you told me that, after all this preparation, you weren't going to turn back?"

She smirked, realizing the irony of it. "Yeah...I guess so."

"So..." he took a deep breath, and she could see that he was physically as well as mentally preparing himself for whatever lay ahead, "I'm not going to turn back either. I asked you to this dance, and I intend to follow through."

Inwardly she sighed. He was so noble.

"Hey Arnold!" they both turned at the sound of Gerald's voice. He and Phoebe were walking toward them. Gerald was dressed in a bright blue suit with a red silk tie, and, as usual, his hair was perfectly styled in the top of his head.

Helga smiled at her friend. "Nice dress, Pheebs."

Phoebe glowed under her compliment. "Thank you." In a celebration of one half of family heritage, Phoebe had chosen to wear a baby blue kimono. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun and fastened with chopsticks.

"Man, we've been looking all over for you guys! Why are you just standing out here?" Gerald asked Arnold. "Come on, let's go in!"

Arnold offered a half smile to Helga. "Ready?"

She returned a full grin. "As ready as I'll ever be, _football head._"

Arnold was surprised when he offered her his hand, and even more surprised when she took it.

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The school gym was dark, punctuated by only a single row of florescent lights here and there. At the back of the gym, two huge speakers vibrated as the DJ, a college student with a variety of music tastes, cranked up the music to its full volume. Braver students stood directly in front of the speakers, moving and vibrating their bodies in time with the music. Shyer students stood along the walls or in the far right corner next to the punch bowl. Others sat at the cheap plastic tables set up along the left wall under the basketball hoops. And, in the darkest corner of the gym, two young stood alone, bent over in conversation. Both of them had dressed the bare minimum for the occasion, wearing untucked white dress shirts and baggy khaki pants. One was tall, with chin length brown hair and angry hazel eyes. The other was muscular and tan. His grey eyes flashed as he surveyed the gym. He pushed a clump of black curls away from his face and asked his companion, "What time is it?"

The other checked his watch. "A quarter after eight." His fists clenched. "Where the hell _are_ they?"

His friend put his hand on his shoulder. "Easy, man. They'll be here."

"Justin! Alex!" a whiny voice broke their conversation as a tall, attractive girl stomped over to the two teenagers. "Why are you just standing here? You've been here by yourselves all night, just talking. The least you could do is come out and stand next to me. I look so stupid out there by myself."

Justin glared at the girl. "Chill out, Rhonda."

"Chill out?! Do you have any idea how horrible this night has been for me? First, my date-_your brother_-calls me _two hours_ before the dance and tells me that he's not going to the dance tonight. Instead, he's going to this frat party up at Germasen College-a party that somehow I _did not_ get invited to. And not just him, either. Ninety percent of our crowd bailed out on the dance to go to that stupid party. So now I'm standing out there, _alone,_ in my four hundred dollar custom made designer dress, looking like a loser because I have no date and no one to talk to. The only people here from our crowd are Iggy and Katrinka, and they've been dancing with _each other_ all night and totally ignoring _me._ It's simply-"

"Shut up."

Rhonda's eyes widened. "_What_ did you say?"

Justin's eyes flared. He was not in the mood for Rhonda's complaining. "Shut up," he repeated.

So foreign were those two words to Rhonda that she simply stood, her lips slightly parted, speechless. Finally, she huffed, "Well, I _never_!" She spun around on her designer heel and stomped away.

Justin blew out a breath. "What a bitch," he muttered.

"Aw, she's not that bad. She's kinda sexy when she's mad. I'd do her." Alex grinned at his younger friend.

Justin recoiled. "Dude, that's disgusting."

Alex shrugged and pushed a black curl out of his face. Justin rolled his eyes, and checked his watch again. "Eight twenty." He crossed his arms over his chest as his face resumed its stony glare. "Man, I cannot wait for this. Those jerks have it coming to them, big time. If they think that they can bring down the status of our whole group, they have another thing coming." He turned to Alex. "You got the stuff?"

"Right here." Alex produced a three inch bottle from his pocket. The bottle was filled three fourths of the way with a clear fluid.

Justin's lip curled into his first smile of the evening. "Excellent, man. So what's it do?"

"It's nothing too heavy. Just makes you, well, a little tipsy." He smirked.

Justin snorted. "So, we'll have the "righteous couple" stumbling all over the place and slurring their words? Ha! Won't make them look so heroic when they're led out of the dance by the big man for being smashed, huh?"

Alex smiled, shook his head, and slid the bottle back into his pocket.

For someone who just spent four days in juvie hall, Justin thought, Alex is acting really calm and collected. But that's what made Alex cool: nothing fazed him. Not a whiny bitch, not four days in jail, not having his social status take a major blow. Alex simply took things as they came, waiting, always waiting, for the perfect opportunity to get what he truly wanted.

Justin, however, was not so calm. "That Arnold guy makes me madder than hell," he said to Alex. "He's the one that brainwashed Lila into thinking that I was some sort of evil bastard. I mean, seriously. We had the perfect relationship, and then one day she was all, 'I don't like the way you're acting; I wanna break up.'"

Alex shrugged. "Come on, Lila wasn't that great. I bet she didn't even put out, did she?"

Justin recoiled as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Dude, that's not funny! I was, like, in love with her! It didn't matter…."

"Sure." Alex grinned at him. "You know, there's plenty more out there. Why don't you try going for Mandy or Christina? The blonde babes. They're easy," he winked at Justin, "trust me."

Justin sighed in aggravation. He was about to check his watch again when something caught his eye. He squinted across the gym at the tall stack of curly black hair that made its way into the gym. Gerald. The traitor, as Justin liked to call him since Thursday, when he had abandoned his own to hang with _those_ people.

He watched the two blondes walk into the gym, hand in hand. His hand curled into a fist. He looked over at Alex. He, too, had spotted the group. His expression had not changed.

Justin looked up at him. "And now?..."

Alex gave a single nod. "We wait."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: OMG, Lilchamor! I had a heart attack when I saw the "I'm Not Perfect" story update alert in my inbox. I said to myself, surely, this cannot be true! What kind of author waits _six friggin years _to update?

My reply: I really, really have no excuse. Yes, I graduated college, got married, and started graduated school. But, that's life. All I can say is, I am bound and determined that this fanfic will get finished this week. Yes, this week! I am on a one week break before I start the summer semester, and I am hammering the rest of this story out if it kills me….jk. To my old fans, I thank you for supporting me and HA! through these long, tedious years. To my new fans, welcome!

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 9

She kept staring at their intertwined hands.

His hands were large and wide, with squared shaped, calloused fingers, such a contrast to her own thin, bony hands with long fingers. His nails were trimmed and scrubbed for the occasion; hers were painted a light pink. Their nails were about the same length, thanks to her nail biting habit.

_Our hands, my love, entwined, two different worlds coming together in perfect harmony, in love, like our hearts may be someday…_

"Is everything okay?" he asked her, leaning close to her so he could be heard above the blaring music. "You keep looking down."

She treasured the lovely scent of his shampoo, basking in the fact that he was leaning so close to her, before answering, "It's…uh…um…these shoes. They feel weird."

They stopped walking in the middle of the gym. The impromptu dance floor was crowded with students grooving to the beat of the music. Gerald bowed to Phoebe like a true gentlemen and extended his hand. She took it, giggling, as he led her out to the dance floor. Never was there a dull moment with Gerald, she thought.

She had to admit, she had been extremely surprised when he had invited her to be his companion at tonight's dance. From his past dating history, Gerald seemed to prefer more outgoing, effervescent girls. She had tried to hide any evidence of envy she had had these past few years whenever he showed interest in a girl that wasn't her. She was attracted to him, that was certain. Whether the feeling was mutual was something she couldn't be sure of, though tonight seemed to indicate such. He had told her earlier that he and Arnold weren't friends with the popular crowd anymore. She admired him and Arnold for taking such a bold stance. She was sure that Helga appreciated this, too, and especially the way he had stood up for her on Thursday. Was it Arnold's influence, perhaps, that had caused Gerald to ask her to Homecoming?

Either way, she was enjoying herself. She herself wasn't an excellent dancer, but Gerald had enough energy for the both of them. He held her hands as he twirled and spun her. They copied other kids' moves; they made up their own moves. They jumped and waved their arms up high. She was giggling the whole time, because it was all quite outlandish. But it was fun.

Arnold and Helga stood on the side, watching their friends. Arnold suddenly felt shy. Which was ridiculous, of course. He had known Helga for years. True, their relationship had always been, well, tumultuous. But nothing had changed between them, absolutely nothing.

Had it?

Her hand was warm in his own. It was a strange yet welcome sensation. He supposed he was holding her hand because, well, this was technically a date, and he should behave accordingly. Besides, she didn't seem to mind.

Or maybe she liked it, too?

_Too?_

Well, yes, he did like it. She was his friend. Right? After the conversation they'd had in the parking lot...and now, to have her holding his hand…well….it was nice.

"So…" she looked at him with those ice blue eyes, "um, I guess we should…."

"Yeah." He smiled.

They took a few steps forward and merged into the mass of students. The dancers were a unit; there was no beginning, no end, no separations, just the rhythm of the music and those who chose to accept it. And thus, they were swept away.

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She wanted to cry.

She might have done it, too, had it not been a threat to her pride. Not to mention her mascara. Fifty five dollar mascara, mind you, that she had bought at a very _exclusive _uptown boutique. To have it run down her face in a river of black tears would be simply _unthinkable._

She tried to look like she fit in. Like her friends were just temporarily in the bathroom, or at the punch bowl, and would be back any second to join her in dancing. She tried to look like she was having fun. She was a better dancer than any of these kids, of that there was no doubt. Several years of contemporary dance classes bought with her parents' money ensured this. Half of these kids didn't know the meaning of the word "dance". They moved their bodies like crippled octopi. Had she not been so depressed, she would have laughed.

The dancing wasn't enough. She was alone, utterly alone, a feeling completely unknown to her. No one was dancing with her; no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to her. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was not used to being ignored. Nearly always she was the jewel, the grand belle, the center of attention. Wherever she went, a crowd gathered. That was just the way it was. To have no admirers created an unpleasant discomfort. She was a Lloyd; she was born to be noticed.

Rhonda leaned against the wall, heaving, out of breath, fighting the lump in her throat. Squinting in the dim light, she noticed one lone figure coming toward her. Closer...closer...she straightened up, flicked her hair off her shoulder. Looked at her nails and tried to pretend she wasn't looking at him. Closer...it was a guy; she could she that out of the corner of her eye. Skinny. Short. Wearing a baseball cap on backward. _Who wears a baseball cap to a __school dance?_

She gasped. "Sid?"

He said nothing, just grinned and extended his hand.

Her body went limp with resignation...or maybe relief. She thought of checking her watch to see at what time, exactly, her life had ended. But before she could hold up her arm, Sid grabbed her and dragged her into the middle of the sweaty mess of grooving bodies.

"Heya, Rhonda," Stinky said.

Sid grinned at Harold and Patti and whispered, "See? I _told _you she'd be my date at Homecoming!"

00000000000000

Arnold gulped down his third glass of punch.

Gerald wiped sweat off his brow. "Man, it's like a sauna in here!" He had to yell to be heard above the music.

Phoebe nodded. "You'd be surprised how much heat a single human body can radiate. Put four hundred bodies together in a space of nine hundred square feet, and the results are..."

"All right, all right," Gerald waved his hand, "spare me the details." He smiled at Phoebe. "What do you say we step out in the hallway where it's a little cooler?"

"Well…" Phoebe turned to look at Helga, who shook her head and gave her not-so-subtle thumbs up sign. "That would be…I believe…delightful."

Chuckling, Arnold watched his friends walk away. "Those two." He refilled his glass and turned to Helga. "Need more?"

She thrust out her glass, grinning. "And keep 'em comin'. I'm dying over here. Geez, it is _hot._"

"No kidding." He refilled her glass and took a sip of his own.

They stood silently for a few seconds, sipping, watching the other kids dance. Arnold glanced at Helga out of the corner of his eye. Little strands of blonde hair had come undone from her pink ribbon and were strewn about her sweaty face. Was it his imagination, or was she watching him, too? He leaned toward her, started to say something. Realized he had nothing to say. She leaned forward, eyebrow furrowed. He shook his head. She shrugged and looked back out toward the dance floor. He wiped his forehead. _Man, that was kind of lame. _He took a gulp of his punch—too much—and suppressed a cough as it went down.

_Oh, Arnold, my love, here we stand, inches apart, so many others around, and yet…and yet, only us. How I adore the way you bring your little Styrofoam cup to your precious lips and sip…._She winced as she watched him take a giant gulp and cough lightly. _Yeesh, that looked painful. _

Arnold cleared his throat. He gave her thumbs up, to indicate that he was okay. Pressed his punch cup to his forehead. _Wow, it is hot. _He looked over at her. She looked over at him. He leaned forward again.

"Do you think…."

"Maybe we should…."

"Yeah, um, out there, maybe?" Helga pointed to a nearby door that had been propped open to the outside.

"Yeah, I mean, the temperature's fallen, it's almost nine thirty…"

"So it's probably…."

"Sixty degrees or so…maybe…."

"Cooler…."

"Yeah…."

"Yeah…"

Arnold rubbed the back of his neck. She caught his hand in hers, looking away to hide her smile, swooning slightly, trying to avoid collapsing as they made their way toward the door.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Alex touched Justin's arm and pointed at the blonde couple walking away. Justin met his eyes, questioning.

Alex nodded. "It's time." They stepped forward.

000000000000000000000000000

He stared, enthralled, at those teeny, perfect lips, moving as she talked.

"And so, I really couldn't decide. But in the end, I concluded that studying Arabic might give me a more competitive edge in the global job market if I do decide to go abroad. Unbeknownst to me, this language was actually quite similar to Spanish, which one never would imagine, because…" Phoebe stopped, suddenly realizing Gerald had been silent the whole time. "Oh, Gerald, forgive me, I'm afraid I've been...quite the narcissist. I mean, I've been talking about myself this whole time."

He smiled. "I know what a narcissist is."

She flushed. "Of course you do! I didn't mean to imply…"

Gerald rose slowly from the bench they had been sitting on. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly, back and forth, in front of the bench. "Phoebe, I was hoping that you could help me figure out something."

"Of…course, Gerald. Anything."

"See, I've been having this…dilemma. Okay, so you know, other kids, they're always telling stories, right? They did this and that with so and so. Problem is, everybody always exaggerates, right?"

She nodded, even though she wasn't really following him…

"So, it's hard to know where you stand, you know, in comparison to your peers. It's hard to know if your experience is 'normal.' Now-" He pointed a finger at her. "Now you know I meant what I said, that I'm not really going to try to be 'popular' anymore, and trust me, I mean it. But still, a guy has to know where he stands, you know? It's just natural human desire to know if your experience is normal."

Phoebe shook her head. "Gerald, what are you-"

"So, I say to myself, 'I'm fourteen years old and I have NEVER been kissed!' Never! Not once! I've had how many dates, but it's never happened! Oh, sure, maybe a peck on the cheek, but no! I'm talking a real, honest-to-God, fireworks, knees trembling, soul-baring KISS! Never, Phoebe! NEVER! Fourteen years without being kissed!"

Phoebe blinked. "Oh."

"But then I thought, 'Maybe that's not so unusual! Maybe lots of kids are in this position!' Maybe, just maybe, every single kid in our class who says they have already been kissed is _lying. _After all, who wants to admit that they're _fourteen years old and have never been kissed?! _Soooo….I was hoping you could help me out with this. Other kids, you know, like I said, they exaggerate. They can't be trusted. But you, you're honest. I know you can tell me about _your _experience, so I can know if _mine _is normal." Gerald stopped, sat down on the bench, and leaned over. "Sooooo, tell me, Phoebe…have _you _ever been kissed?"

Phoebe flushed, looked down. "Oh...I suppose I, I, well, I..." She smiled and slowly looked up at Gerald. "No."

He leaned forward. Her eyes widened behind her glasses. Up close, she smelled like lavender and peppermint. "Then maybe we could change that," he whispered.

Their lips met, delicately, warmly. He wrapped her in his arms, slowly, and let the softness of her consume him.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 10

Author's Note: One f-bomb in this chapter. You have been warned. :p

The temperature had dropped dramatically in the last hour. The cool wind felt like a life-saver after the….well, it wasn't just the heat.

_Oh, my love, alone at last, on such a calm night, under the stars and moon, with the wind blowing your little tufts of sweaty golden hair away from your sweet face…dare I hope….dare I?..._

Arnold took another sip of punch. He grimaced. "Too sweet."

She jolted, as if snapped out of deep thought. "Huh?"

"This punch. It's too sweet." He set his cup down on a concrete bench behind them.

"Oh." She looked at the cup in her hand, as if remembering it was still there, and set her cup down next to his.

He looked up at the sky. "Hey, look! It's so clear, you can see all seven stars of Cassiopeia! Wow, you could never see that from my house!"

She titled up her head. "Oh yeah, I see! There's the top, and…"

"Yeah, and look, you can almost…yeah, do you see the dragon? There's the tip of his head, see, two stars, then….if you look…the tail, over there in the third last star…."

_Oh Arnold, here we are, counting the stars, finding the constellations….have I not dreamed about this very thing for months, years, decades? The way you study the sky with your chin tucked into your hand, the way you bite your lip and stick out your tongue as you search for an especially dim star. Oh…._

He looked at her suddenly. "Do you know what I think about at times like this?"

"Hm?" She looked at him, enthralled, still smiling, still lost in her world.

He shuffled his foot. "Well, I know it sounds kind of weird, but….I think of my parents. You know, wherever they are, or if they're here, but even if not, maybe they can look at this, and maybe they're seeing the same stars that I am, maybe they're finding the dragon's tail too. Grandpa used to say, 'Whenever you miss someone, look up, and remember that we all look at the same sky.'" He paused and slowly smiled. "That makes me happy."

She relaxed. "Yeah." She bit her lip, not wanting to say anything stupid or, God forbid, nasty. "Um…you know…" she began awkwardly, "wherever they are, maybe they're thinking the same thing too. Like, you know, thinking of….their son, looking up at the sky too…and, well, maybe it makes them happy?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Maybe." He took her hand again, _sending ohmygosh electric tingles up her body, _and they were silent for a minute, staring up at the sky together.

He paused. "Hey, Helga?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…I just wanted to thank you for coming with me tonight. I know this isn't really your thing, and, to be honest, it really isn't mine, either. When I asked you to come with me, I wasn't sure what to expect. But now that we're here, I'm really glad that I asked you. I'm having a great time. And being with you…you know, like this…I guess I just forgot how easy it is to be with you. To talk with you, I mean, about things."

She felt her face melt into a smile, and turned away to hide it. _Oh, but why must I hide my smile from you always, my dear, why? _"Um….well, you know, I, I'm having a great time with you too, I mean, obviously."

His face lit up. "You are?"

"Yeah, well, sure." She kicked a pebble. "I guess, maybe, I…like you, you know, a little, or maybe…you could say…a lot."

He started. Why did this sound familiar?

"_I don't hate you as much I thought, okay? I guess maybe I, I, kind of, like you a little. Heck, I, I, guess I might even kind of say that I like you a lot."_

"_You do? You did this for me?"_

"_That's right, Hair Boy! I mean, Criminy, what else are you supposed to do when someone you-"_

No.

"No," Helga said.

He jumped. How did she know what he was thinking?

"Oh no, no, no, shit," she said, but her gaze was directed away from his, toward the entrance of the gym, where two figures were walking toward them. One was tall, with long hair…about down to his chin. The other….

"Hey guys," one of them said. That voice, that voice would forever be burned in his mind.

_Hey man, it's cool, it's cool. We were just…_

"No," he said, stumbling, backing up, physically pressing his back against Helga, shielding her. He looked around wildly, but the four of them were the only ones out here. He thought of yelling for help. Would anyone hear them over the music?

In one single motion, Helga jumped forward, pulled an object out of the front of her dress (_the front of her dress?_), and unsheathed a knife (_a knife?!)._

"TAKE ONE STEP CLOSER AND I WILL CASTRATE YOU, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" she screamed.

Justin jumped away from Alex. Alex threw up his hands. "All right. All right! Look, I'm staying right here. I'm not moving."

Arnold slowly stepped forward. Helga was breathing hard, her body heaving, clutching the knife tightly with both hands.

Alex slowly lowered his hands. "The truth is…I came here to apologize."

Helga's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"What?" Arnold said.

"I said I came here to apologize. What I did to you wasn't cool. The truth is, okay, yeah, I guess I got kind of pissed when you rejected me. I just….I thought you wanted it, okay? You went down to that room by yourself, and we were flirting earlier…."

"I _definitely _was not flirting with you, asshole," Helga snapped.

"Whatever, fine, I get it. But I thought you were. I thought you _wanted _me to follow you. Then…I guess things just got a little out of control, okay?"

Arnold clenched his fists. "A _little_?_"_

Alex glared at him. "Look, they got out of control, all right? I'll admit it. I went too far."

"You went too far." Helga repeated. She clenched the knife tighter. "I'll tell you right now what you're going to do, Alex. One, you're going to turn around with your little friend, get in your car, and leave this dance. Then, you will never, ever come within ten feet of me, ever again. If you see me in the halls at school, you will turn around and walk the other way. If the entire cafeteria is full and the only seat free is the seat next to me, you will eat standing up. You will never so much as _lay eyes _on me ever again. Got it?"

Silence. The wind blew. Arnold never took his eyes off Alex. Helga clutched the knife so tightly that her hands started to shake.

Alex smiled. "Understood. Come on, Justin."

The two men walked away, their bodies dissolving in darkness as they made their way toward the parking lot.

Helga blew out a sigh. Slowly, she refolded the knife and pushed it back into the front of her dress. She buried her face in her hands.

Arnold put his hand on her shoulder. "Helga, I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I….I already knew Alex was out of jail. I knew that he might be at the dance tonight."

Helga looked up.

"I….I didn't know if I should tell you, but, I should have, Helga. I'm so sorry…"

"Arnold," she said gently, "I already knew."

His jaw dropped. "You did?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I mean, we get calls at home every time there's a change in the case. They called us to let us know he was out of jail."

He slowly sank down onto the bench. "So…you knew he might be here…and you still came?"

"Of course."

Arnold shook his head. "But…I don't get it. Why?"

"Arnold, I'm not gonna let some stupid jerk control where I do and don't go. Besides, I made good and sure that if he ever comes near me, he'll lose some fingers. Or, you know, his…you get the idea."

"So…." Arnold said slowly, "You always carry that knife."

"Yep. Ever since your birthday. A knife and mace in my…." She patted her chest.

Arnold blushed and looked away.

She raised her eyebrow. "What? You thought I was this well-endowed naturally?"

"Uhhh…I….I…."

She grinned. "Hey, Football Head, you're looking a little flushed. Here, have some punch." She handed him his cup. Grateful for the distraction, he took a long swallow. She picked up her own cup and chugged the remainder of her punch.

"Hey Arnold!" Gerald and Phoebe emerged from the building. "Come on, man! They're about to announce the Homecoming Kings and Queens!"

Helga raised her eyebrow. "Well, _this _should be interesting." She stood up. "Come on, Hair Boy. Don't forget your punch. It's very _hot_ in the gym."

"Er, right." He took her hand—it had become a habit by now—and they walked back into the gym.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Before we announce the Homecoming Kings and Queens from every grade, I just wanted to take the time to remind each and every one of you that you are _all_ winners. No matter what the outcome today, you all would have made great Kings and Queens."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Yeesh, what a fruitcake." The teacher standing up there—Mr. Somethingorotherski, who taught sophomore English—reminded her of a teacher they'd had in the fourth grade.

Meanwhile, Gerald and Phoebe smiled at each other. Not only were they glowing from their not-so-short first kiss (all right, kisse_s)_, but they knew something about the Homecoming Kings and Queens that their friends didn't.

"From the senior class….Kayla Rodgers and Martin Shrove!"

Applause roared as two well-dressed teenagers stepped into a spotlight in the middle of the dance floor, which had been cleared specially for this occasion.

"Man," Helga mumbled to Arnold, "She looks like a frosted cupcake. You know, all pink and fluffy."

Arnold laughed, despite himself. "That's not…very nice," he whispered.

"From the junior class….Ida Powers and Winston Gaffski!"

Phoebe watched Arnold and Helga giggling together. "Do you think they suspect?" she asked Gerald.

He smiled. "Oh, no…I think they have absolutely, positively _no idea._"

"From the sophomore class…Maria Lopez and Johnny Trace!"

"Hey, I think I had a date with her once," Arnold whispered to Helga. "When I was, like, nine."

For some reason, this sent them into another fit of laughter.

"And lastly….from the freshman class….Helga Pataki and Arnold Short!"


	11. Chapter 11

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 11

They gasped. Arnold turned to Gerald. "Wha…how?"

Gerald grinned. "As it turns out, Justin and Lila got the most votes. Well, since Lila's not here, and Justin declined—don't ask me why, man- they did an emergency re-vote while you guys were outside just a few minutes ago doing your thing. After that little scene on Thursday, who do you think was getting the most votes? Everyone was going around saying how they were voting for Arnold and Helga! Well, come on, get out there!"

It was so ridiculous, so unexpected. Arnold and Helga looked at each other. They burst into another uncontrollable bout of laughter, and half-stumbled into the spotlight.

A song came on over the speakers—something soft, and slow. Jazzy. Sounded kind of like Dino Spumoni, but a little different. Arnold put his arms around Helga, taking deep breaths to try to calm his chortling—it wouldn't be very appropriate, even if the whole thing _was_ pretty funny—and he finally began to relax a little. They started to turn, little by little, some kind of rhythm, unspoken, only felt.

Helga could feel the warmth of his fingers on the small of her back. _Oh, Arnold, my love, how perfect is this moment. You and I, dancing together, all eyes on us…._

Arnold looked into her eyes. She was staring at him intently. Slight smile, eyelids drooped, face relaxed. Nice. And….and…something. She was looking at him in a way that he very rarely saw, but knew existed. He had seen it before….Oh, glimpsed here and there, he supposed. Maybe in the hallway, when she thought he wasn't looking. Those times, so brief, before she snapped back to herself….Or, was this her 'self'? Right here, right now? Under this spotlight, too bright, and ugh, kind of hot.

Who's idea was it anyway, to put them under a spotlight when it was already scorching in here….

They should turn out the lights instead. They could dance in the dark.

Yes, that would be a good idea….

Oh. But then he couldn't see where he was going. And neither could she, he guessed.

She kept staring at him. The tenderness in her face was palpable; he could feel it in his spine, little pinpricks in his spine…

_What's…what's going on…I feel….a little…oh, no, wait, that's just the heat…_

Would it be rude to look away? He almost wanted her to stop, stop looking at him that way, stop looking at him like…

"_I mean, Criminy, what else are you supposed to do when someone you love is in trouble?"_

_ He was sure he'd heard her wrong. "Love?..."_

_ In two steps she marched over to him and thrust her finger in his face. He stumbled._

"_You heard me, pal! I love you!" _

_He swung his arms wildly, (WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?), tried to keep his balance, ah-nope-going-down, SMACK on the hard concrete ground._

"_Love you!" She was in his face. _

_He scrambled to his feet. WHAT, what, what?_

"_Who else d'you think has been stalking you night and day, building shrines to you in a closet…"_

_What? Wait, wait, she was close, tooclose tooclose, back up, back up._

"I love you, Arnold," he murmured. "I've always loved you, ever…since I first laid eyes on your stupid football head."

Helga stopped mid-step. "_What _did you just say?"

_What did she just say? _

"_And from that moment…"_

"And every moment since," he said, "I've lived and breathed for you, dreamed of the moment…"

Her eyes widened. "Wha- What are you…."

_What was she…_

"_I've lived and breathed for you…." _

_Wait, wait, back up, back up, too late, he was against a wall, he looked down…so far… "…dreamed of the moment I could finally tell you my sacred feelings…." _

_Nowhere to go, wait, wait, just slow down a minute, just, just, just…_

"Dreamed of the moment I could finally tell you my sacred feelings…"

Helga gasped. "Arnold…wha…"

"What in the Sam Hill," Gerald said, "is going on out there?" Arnold and Helga had ceased dancing and were just standing still on the dance floor, with their arms still wrapped around each others' waists.

"_and grab you," she seized him by the shoulders, "and kiss you and…."WAIT WHAT?_

"_Oh, come here, you big lug!" In one fell swoop, she grabbed him, shoulders, arms, neck, all, everything, WAIT TOO FAST, pressed her mouth to his, heart thumping, WAIT, she tasted like grape lollipops and Mr. Fudgies, pressed against him so hard, too much, what was happening, he felt cool wind on his scalp…wait, his scalp? Did he just lose his hat? What was happening?_

_She released him finally. _

"I'm confused," he said softly. "Did you just say you….loved….me?"

"I….I….I….didn't say…anything!" She stumbled, and he clutched her waist to steady her.

"I'm…sorry." He was having trouble forming words; his tongue was so thick. "Did you just say…did you just say..."

"Do you think they're all right?" Phoebe asked Gerald.

A few feet away, Rhonda was shaking her head. "I mean, really," she said to Sid, "it's not like it's a terribly difficult dance step."

"Did you just say….did you just say…"

"_What, are you _deaf?_" She shook him roughly._

"Arnold…wha….why?..."

_It was so cold, it was raining, oh-no-wait, that was that other time. It was raining, she was muddy, she looked sad, poor little girl, she was going to get her pretty pink bow wet, I-will-share-my-umbrella-with-you, poor-sad-little-girl-why-don't-you-smile. _

"Arnold…" she stumbled again, gasped, little gasping noises, _huh, huh, huh._ "I don't…I feel…a little bit…"

_Nice bow, huh, I like your bow 'cuz it's pink like your pants… _

The gym went dark. The music cut out.

"What the hey-who?..." Gerald said.

Screams and surprised shouts.

"What's going on?..."

"Was there a power outage?..."

"Who…?"

"Excellent," a voice whispered, low, soft, calculating, silenced by the walls of the utility room adjacent to the gym.

"Uh, sorry, ladies and gentlemen." The teacher had to shout to be heard; his microphone was no longer working, either. "Seems we're experiencing some technical difficulties….Mrs. Phleng, could you?...No?...The light switch isn't working?...See if we can find a flashlight…?"

"What on earth is going on?!" Rhonda shouted.

"Ar…nold….I can't…" Helga whispered, gasped, _huh, huh, huh._ She swayed, stumbled, clutched him, pressed her forehead to his. He couldn't see her, only felt the warmth of her damp forehead against his. "Ar…nold?..."

_Swiiiissshhh he pushes her on the swings when it stops raining and she laughs, she laughs and laughs and it's much better than hearing her cry, but she hits too, she hits and pushes and it hurts OUCH he falls on his butt. _

"Arnold," she whispered. She stumbled again, swayed, and this time he was swaying, too, swaying with her, and there was the same moment, _ah-nope-going-down_, a tangle of limbs and shiny fabric and heat, OUCH the hard floor, her arms were around him, gasping, those little noises, _huh, huh, huh,_ his back against the cool linoleum.

"What's…what's…wrong with us?..." she whispered.

_Little girl, why are you so mean why are you so sad, little girl…_

"Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, we seem to be experiencing an electrical problem. Please stay where you are and just wait…we don't want anybody hurt…"

"Arnold!" Gerald shouted. "Where are you? Are you okay, man?"

"That was so easy," a voice whispered from the utility room. "I can't believe all we had to do was cut the wires."

"Shut up," the other man whispered. He needed silence, he needed to listen, he needed to feel it. He couldn't see them, but he could feel their confusion, their terror. _Poor little kids…all alone out there…middle of the floor…in the dark…so confused…head spinning…no one to help you…so afraid…so afraid. _He could feel it, he could feel their fear. The stuff did more than just mess you up. It made you paranoid, made you afraid. And there they were, in the dark, stumbling, confused, lost, lonely…He loved their fear, he needed it. It rushed through his veins and made him alive, made him satisfied like ripping apart a coconut with his bare hands and biting the flesh and eating each moist, tender morsel…..

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_Justin jumped away from Alex. Alex threw up his hands. "All right. All right! Look, I'm staying right here. I'm not moving."_

_ Justin began stepping away. Slowly…slowly…_

_ "The truth is…I came here to apologize."_

_ Slowly…_

_ "WHAT?"_

_ "What?"_

_ "I said I came here to apologize. What I did to you wasn't cool. The truth is, okay, yeah, I guess I got kind of pissed when you rejected me. I just….I thought you wanted it, okay? You went down to that room by yourself, and we were flirting earlier…."_

_ He approached the concrete bench behind the couple, his eyes on the identical Styrofoam cups._

_ "I _definitely_ was not flirting with you, asshole."_

_ Justin pulled the bottle out of his pocket and unscrewed it. Slowly...so slowly…_

_ "Whatever, fine, I get it. But I thought you were. I thought you wanted me to follow you. Then…I guess things just got a little out of control, okay?"_

_ The clear stuff didn't have a smell. That was odd. He would've expected it to smell like booze, or something._

_ "A little?"_

_ "Look, they got out of control, all right? I'll admit it. I went too far."_

_ He tipped the bottle and watched the clear stuff disappear into the dark red liquid. _

_ "You went too far. I'll tell you right now what you're going to do, Alex. One, you're going to turn around with your little friend, get in your car, and leave this dance."_

_ He tipped the remaining liquid into the second cup._

_ "Then, you will never, ever come within ten feet of me, ever again. If you see me in the halls at school, you will turn around and walk the other way."_

_Justin screwed the cap back on the bottle._

"_If the entire cafeteria is full and the only seat free is the seat next to me, you will eat standing up. You will never so much as lay eyes on me ever again. Got it?"_

_He slowly stepped away from the bench…One step, two, three…_

"_Understood."_

_Justin swung around._

"_Come on, Justin."_

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"Some…thing…happened," Helga gasped. _Huh, huh, huh._ Her chest rising and falling beneath his, so fast, there on the floor…."Some…thing happened to us…I feel…so…"

"Shhh," he said. He pressed his cheek to hers, felt her face heave as she gasped for breath. "Don't…be scared."

_Don't be scared, little girl. There's a big thunderstorm and all the lights go out in the preschool and she screams, she screams and she's scared, so scared… _

"Oh…my…God…I didn't take….my meds…I didn't take…" He felt the wetness of her tears on his cheek.

_FLASH the lightning and he sees her sitting there, in the corner in the dark next to the fingerpaints, lightning flashing, thunder and he holds her hand and she stops screaming, she's not so scared…._

He felt for her hand in the dark. Long fingers, warm…He laced his fingers through hers.

_It's okay, it's okay, little girl, don't cry…he holds her hand, he holds her, that other time too, the little girl now grown up, crying, with her face all bloody….it's okay, don't cry, don't cry…_

"_Don't cry, Arnold, don't cry." His hands and knees sting from where he fell and he cries and it hurts and he's small, so-so-so small, smaller than the whole world but she's there, she picks him up and holds him in her warm arms._

"_Don't cry, Arnold." _

_Don't cry, little girl._

"_Don't cry, I love you."_

"Don't cry, I love you. Don't cry, I love you." He clutched her hand, pressed it to his mouth. "Don't cry, I love you." He said it, over and over. "Don't cry, I love you." He said it until it became a song, a mantra.

"Don't cry, I love you. Don't cry, I love you."

_I love you, Arnold! I've always loved you…._

"You…do?" she gasped. "You….you…"

_That's right, I love you!  
_"Yes," he says. "Yes, I love you."

"You…love… me?"

"I've always loved you."

"I've…always…"

"I know."

"I'm… sorry…"

"I know."

"So… many…times…"

"I know."

She could no longer speak, but he felt the words as she mouthed them against his cheek.

_I love you._

As her lips formed the final syllable, he gently, briefly touched his lips to hers.

_Grape lollipops and Mr. Fudgies…_

This time she tasted like fruit punch.

He closed his eyes and held her there, down on the floor, holding on, holding out, riding out the wave of this hellish substance coursing through their bodies. Then, he felt himself slipping away, and the only thing left to hold onto was her.

Author's note: Well, that was kind of a shock…I cried while writing this chapter, and that _never _happens. More coming ASAP!


	12. Chapter 12

I'm Not Perfect

Chapter 12

Gerald's eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. He could make out the silhouette of Phoebe next to him. A little beyond, some other figures….heads….bodies….gradually….

But where was his best friend?

"Arnold!" he shouted again.

A flash of light suddenly overwhelmed his dilated pupils. Gerald groaned and shielded his eyes.

Mr. Swarski swept the flashlight around the gym. "I'm so sorry, everyone. We can't seem to find the problem. We're calling emergency maintenance. I'm sorry, but we'll have to cut the dance short." He shined the flashlight over a series of teenage faces—some frightened, some angry, some relieved.

"I'm so sorry, everyone." He moved the flashlight to the middle of the gym. "I hope-"

Gasps filled the gym.

Arnold and Helga lay on the floor, unmoving, clasped in each other's arms.

"Arnold!" Gerald shouted, at the same time Phoebe cried, "Helga!", and they tore across the gym floor, collapsing to their knees next to their unconscious friends.

Next door, in the utility room, the two men listened to the chaos in the gym.

"They're not moving!..."

"Can't wake them up…."

"Call an ambulance!"

Fear seized in Justin's chest. He opened the utility room door and peered into the gym. A single light illuminated two blonde figures, lying on the floor, unmoving. _What?_

"Alex!" he cried. He threw open the utility room door.

"Alex, it's all wrong, they passed out, we have to…"

Alex was gone.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

"_Understood. Come on, Justin." _

_For some reason, while Justin was walking away, he couldn't meet their eyes._

_Lila would be so ashamed._

_It was no big deal. It was nothing too heavy. Alex had said so himself. _

_Alex stopped halfway to the car and leaned against the school building. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, and offered one to Justin. Justin shook his head. He peered toward the light that emerged from the gym…_

"_Alex?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Are we sure we want to do the rest of the plan? They're…they're gonna be okay, right?"_

_Alex took a long drag and blew a ring of smoke. He grinned. _

"_Since when are you worried about their safety?"_

"_I…"_

_Alex burst out laughing. He slapped Justin on the back._

"_Hey, man, trust me, all right? You trust me?"_

_Justin relaxed. He had known this guy for three years. Alex always knew what to do. Of course he trusted him. Everything would be fine._

0000000000000000000000000000000

"She's not breathing!"

"Hurry up!..."

"Does anybody know CPR?..."

Back in the utility room, Justin buried his face in his hands.

"Alex," he whispered. "Alex, goddamnit, you bastard…."

000000000000000000000000

"Arnold. Arnold." Hands on his face, his arms. Pulling him up, setting him down. _Where was she?_

"Arnold." A sharp prick, pain in his arm. Lights. _Where was she? He couldn't lose her again. He promised…_

Grandpa's voice. "Arnold, come on, boy, wake up…" _Where?_

He opened his eyes, saw her face, white, still. _There. _Relief coursed through him. He reached out and touched her arm.

_I'm here. I'm right here…_

_We're gonna be okay._


	13. Epilogue

I'm Not Perfect

Epilogue

Arnold slowly opened his eyes. The light was still painful. He stretched his stiff arms to the ceiling, wincing as he remembered the IV in his left forearm, and looked over at the adjacent hospital bed.

He vaguely remembered his grandparents and her parents leaving sometime late last night. His Grandma's hands on his face…

_Don't worry, Jefferson, we'll be back soon. We need to return to base and restock our supplies. In the meantime, these Red Cross nurses will take good care of you…_

The memory made him smile. If Grandma was acting like herself, then that had to mean everything was going to be okay.

Justin had turned himself in to the police. He confessed that he and Alex had slipped something into Arnold and Helga's drinks. The plan was that he, Justin, was supposed to slip the drug—Justin wasn't sure what it was, but he had guessed something like booze—into their punch while Alex distracted them. Arnold and Helga were supposed to have been a little tipsy, a little silly. Cutting the wires to the gym on the breaker box was supposed to be a joke. Two people, already buzzed, stumbling around in the dark, maybe falling down, maybe saying some stupid things—it was supposed to be funny, and, okay, yeah, maybe he hoped they would get in trouble for coming to a dance drunk.

But that's not what Alex had planned.

The tox screens revealed that the drug Alex had given them was Midazolam. It was a strong, fast-acting sedative. A normal dosage just made you sleepy, a high dosage might make you confused, sick, and paranoid.

Alex had given them a near-lethal dosage. He may have even planned a lethal dosage, but got his measurements wrong. He cut the wires to the gym so that it would take time for everyone to notice how sick Arnold and Helga were, so that there was less of an opportunity for them to get help…

Respiratory distress was one of the most common side effects of Midazolam. With Helga already recovering from her throat injury, the Midazolam stopped her breathing for at least a minute or two before someone started rescuing breathing on her.

But there was no permanent damage. Alex and Justin were both in custody. Along with Alex's previous attack on Helga, there was more than enough evidence to charge him with attempted murder, they had been told. As for Justin…well…since he didn't know exactly what was going on, he could be let off easy.

Maybe.

But Arnold and Helga had gotten help in time. They were going to be okay, both of them…..

He looked over at the next hospital bed.

It was a little strange, actually, that they had been placed in the same hospital room. Apparently, there had also been a giant accident on the highway last night, and space in the hospital was limited. But he was grateful. It was comforting to be near her, to make sure she was okay.

She was sitting up in bed. The TV was on, but she wasn't watching it. She was staring into space, her blonde hair astray, her pink ribbon gone, hospital gown wrinkled.

"Good morning," he said.

"Aiya…" she jumped. "Geez, don't startle me like that!"

"Oh, sorry."

She rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Man, what a night, huh?" she said, indicating the IV in her arm."

"Yeah."

She bit her lip. "So….how are you feeling?"

"Better. Still stiff." He stretched again. "How about you?"

She rolled her eyes again. "I'm so glad Bob and Miriam finally decided to _go home_ to sleep." She pointed at the cot next to her bed. "His snoring was keeping me up _all night. _Man! I know they wanted to stay near me and all, but sheesh!"

He chuckled. "What time are they coming back?"

"They said eleven. Yours?"

"Uhh…Grandma said she'd bring me breakfast. Honestly…I…think I'd rather eat hospital food."

She smirked.

He shrugged.

Silence.

She looked down, patted her IV, made sure it was still secure.

He twisted the blankets around in his hands. _Should I?..._

_What now, Helga?_

Honestly, it was a lot easier to tell her that he loved her when he was drugged.

He thought for a minute. He would have to approach things differently with her now. They would have to do things differently, now, together.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up. He carefully walked toward her, rolling the IV bag along with him.

She raised her eyebrow as he approached her bed. "What're you-"

"Move over," he said, swinging a leg onto her bed. She did.

He slipped his hand underneath the crisp white sheet and found her hand. He looked into those eyes, those clear-blue eyes that he first saw eleven years ago…

"I love you, Helga G. Pataki," he said. "I've always loved you, ever since I first laid eyes on your beautiful pink bow."

That did it. She gave a soft, shuddery sigh, trembled, and _whoosh! _promptly fell back onto the pillows.

He smiled, leaned over, and gently touched his lips to hers. Once, twice, again. Softly, so softly…

_Yep, that's better._


	14. Final Thoughts

Author's Note: I cannot thank you all enough for the support you provided me. This is my first full-length, completed fanfic. Thirteen chapters, six and a half years, dozens of reviews and favorites later, this amazing journey has finally come to an end. Thanks to all of you who continue to support the HA! and have hope that TJM might happen, in some form or another, one of these days.

Many may wonder why I chose such an unusual plotline to bring Arnold and Helga together. The truth is, when we reach adolescence, the reality of the world often comes crashing down on our shoulders. While our problems don't necessarily get worse in adolescence, we often discover the significance of them (ex. Lila's father's drug habit, Gerald's fear of not being good enough for Phoebe.) I wanted to show how I thought the characters would handle this change, and how it would affect their friendships. I honestly do not think Arnold and Helga could form a real relationship until they were old enough to discover what it really means, or rather, what it would mean if they lost each other.

When I began writing this fanfic in 2006, I thought that I might be exaggerating a little in how much Helga was shunned and bullied after being almost raped. However, now, in 2013, with the high-profile cases of Steubenville, Rehteah Parsons, and others, we are now finding out that that these things—notably, survivors being harassed by their classmates and blamed for their rape, especially if the rapist is "popular"—are all too common. The situation of Arnold and Helga being drugged is, of course, highly unlikely, but researchers do find that rapists often escalate in their crimes. While I am not of the opinion that it would take a tragedy to bring Arnold and Helga together, it did make for a more exciting and interesting story. But, as you know, this is not "one of those depressing stories"; ultimately the genre is in the COMFORT and the redeeming power of love.

The counselor in me must write this: If you need help, help is always available. You can contact the Rape, Abuse, and Incest Network at , or call 1-800-656-HOPE.

Thank you for reading!


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